


The next Mrs. Agreste

by AliceUpdate



Series: All Bets Are On [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Awkward First Times, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Marichat, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-07-17 13:50:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16096925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceUpdate/pseuds/AliceUpdate
Summary: The bet was easy. “You make Cat Noir go down on you in less than a month, and I’ll wear the clown nose for a week,” Chloe Bourgeois said, a sly smirk on her lips, as Marinette’s cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red. “If you win, I’ll even give up my place at the Spring Ball this year. That means you’ll get to go as Adrien’s date.”“Deal!” Alya shrieked, not wasting a second to shake the blond devil’s hand, without once glancing over at her best friend to see if she, who was, after all, one of the parties involved, was even okay with all of this.





	1. Nasty Gal

**Author's Note:**

> I've always been a sucker for MariChat so, obviously, I wrote a fanfic about it...  
> I hope you'll like, 'cause, honestly, I'm having lots of fun turning these characters' lives into a living hell.  
> Also, English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any grammar slash vocabulary mistakes you could come across.  
> On this note, enjoy and don't forget to leave your thoughts in the comments!

Pride, from its Latin counterpart _superbia_ , is a “feeling of deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one’s own achievements, the achievements of one’s close associates, or from qualities or possessions that are widely admired” ( _Oxford Pocket English Dictionary_ , 2014).

            It is considered the original and most serious of the seven deadly sins, for the sole remedy to a wounded pride is cruelty ( _F. Nietzsche_ , 1884-1900)

 

***

 

Today was Career Day at _Dupont_ and, of course, Adrien’s dad was unavailable.

            Gabriel Agreste wasn’t a bad father _per se_ – He just wasn’t as involved in his son’s life as much as Adrien wanted him to be, but he still loved him more than anything else in the world, and always made a point to put his happiness and wellbeing above everything else. He just had a different way of showing he cared.

            Gabriel was materialistic and shy. He was a loner and, ever since his wife left him, a borderline agoraphobic. Often, he didn’t know what to say to make Adrien happy, so… he bought him presents. He paid for his education. He showed him that his life revolved around him by making him the face of his fashion line.

            The absence of Emilie left a hole in the house and Gabriel simply had no idea how to fill it– He never was the one to hug Adrien or kiss him goodnight… He was the one responsible for the making of important decisions. He was the one buying him lollipops and carrying him on his shoulders when he got tired of walking. He was the one picking him up and putting him to bed when he fell asleep in front of the T.V. He was the one in charge of the grounding and the harsh talks. He was the conscientious parent, the mature, rational, trustworthy parent. The one Adrien was most afraid to disappoint and the one who never laughed at his jokes.

            “ _You have reached Gabriel Agreste. I’m either away from my desk or on the phone, please leave your name and number along with a short message and I’ll be sure to get back to you_ _._ ”

            Adrien’s jaw tensed and he took in a deep breath before answering. “Hi D– _Father_ , it’s uh– It’s me, again… I’m just calling to tell you that it’s fine. I get it, you’re busy– Don’t worry about it. Just ignore my former messages– It’s too late, anyway… And… I guess I’ll see you at home? Okay, well… That’s about it. H-have a good… day…”

            “ _If your wish to hear your message again, press 1. If you wish to erase your message, press 2. If you wish to_ _–_ “ Click. “ _Your message has been saved. Thank you for using_ Orange. _Have a good day._ ”

            “You okay, kid?” Plagg asked, sticking a careful head out Adrien’s pocket.

            “I don’t know why I’m even surprised,” the boy sighed, leaning against the cold lockers. “It’s not like he ever showed up for any of my school events anyway…”

            “Adrien? Are you there?” a girl’s voice called out, and he straightened up immediately, quietly instructing his kwami to hide. “Hey… A-are– Are you alright?” It was Marinette– Of course, it was Marinette. Only she would notice that her friend wasn’t feeling well and would actually care enough to go check up on him.

            He smiled at her, but it was that kind of smile that he gave cameras and photographers. The kind that didn’t reach his eyes, and the kind that she hated the most. “Yeah. Everything’s fine… What– What’s up?”

            Adrien really loved Marinette– She was one of his closest friends. She was kind, and considered, and simply incredibly _good_. She had something nice to say about everyone, and always knew how to cheer him up when he didn’t feel as… _chirpy_ as he usually was. She had to have some kind of gift, he always told himself. An ability to turn gloom into grins. Something was different about the way she was built, he was convinced of it. Her veins pumped blood and optimism and positivity and her skin just smelled like pure luck and breakfast.

            “I– I’m so-sorry t-to intrude, if– I mean! Um… The uh… Mrs. B-Bustier! She uh… was wondering if you… I mean, I was too, of course! Not that you made it obvious, or anything! I mean… We uh– Well, we were wondering if your dad was going to… um… show up?” she struggled to let out– Adrien understood. Talking about his father wasn’t especially easy for him, everyone knew it, and people often tried to keep him off all topics of conversations. Marinette didn’t want to appear ruthless– not that he’d ever think her capable of callousness, by any means– by mentioning his absence.

            “Yeah, uh… He’s not– He’s not coming…”

            Her eyes darkened suddenly and she pressed a hand to her heart. “Adrien… I’m so sorry…”

            Marinette was never really good at hiding her emotions– Not as good as he was, that’s for sure. Her feelings were raw and genuine and striking and made his spinal cord freeze. Marinette was someone who cried easily, who laughed easily, and her face just transcribed such candid, honest, sincere reactions, it was impossible to be left indifferent.

            “I’m fine– I swear. Don’t worry about it,” he assured her, smiling even brighter in an attempt to appear more believable.

            “But… Well, can’t anyone else come?” she queried with big, round, curious eyes, and Adrien would’ve certainly taken it the wrong way, if anyone else had asked the question.

            “Well, Marinette… I mean, I’m kinda running out of parents at this point, you know?” he tried to joke, but her frown was proof that it was not exactly well-received.

            “No, I mean– Well, Ivan’s parents are out of town, so he invited his aunt who is a stewardess to come instead, and Kim’s couldn’t make it either, because they’re world-famous celebrity-surgeons or whatever, so he called his brother. And Chloe couldn’t get her dad to be here because, well, he’s the mayor, so she asked her star-butler, Jean-Whatever…” She shrugged. “Eh… She says they’re close and, well, who am I to judge, right?” She paused, seemed to think hard about something, then jerked her head up to look at Adrien– He swallowed audibly and blushed, a little unsure of how to handle the situation at this point. “Why don’t you ask your father’s assistant, Natalie?”

            Adrien blinked. He wasn’t expecting that. “ _Natalie?!_ ”

            Marinette’s face immediately softened, and she took a steady step forward that made his heart skip a beat. “Well, yeah... Why not? You say all the time that it was thanks to her that you’re here in _Dupont_ and that it was her convincing your father that really allowed you to hang out with us after school… She obviously cares about you! I mean– I don’t want to overstep or anything… but I think it would be a good idea to… invite her to talk to the class?”

            “Really?”

            Marinette nodded. Adrien never thought of Natalie this way– For him, she always was his father’s assistant, running errands, organizing weekly schedules and picking up the phone. Occasionally, she laid an eye out for him, and when his bodyguard couldn’t do it, she was the one standing outside of his room. Her shoulders were stiff and she didn’t move a lot, sometimes he even wondered if she breathed. She never smiled or showed any kind of emotion, but Adrien knew that Natalie would always be there for him if he asked her.

            “Uh… o-okay… I’ll do that…”

            “Do you want me to leave?”

            “I… I would prefer if you stayed, actually. If you don’t mind, of course.”

            “Sure.”

            Adrien closed his eyes and dialed blindly Natalie’s personal phone number– He knew it by heart. She answered after the first beep.

            “ _Hello?_ ”

            “Hey, Natalie…”

            “ _Adrien? Is there some kind of problem? Do you need anything?_ ”

            She was always quick to assume the worst. Adrien felt bad for calling her only when he needed her or had some kind of a problem he wasn’t sure how to deal with– Even if it _was_ her job description. He made a mental note to talk to her more often and try to ask her a bit about herself. After all, she’s been around for as long as he remembered and he didn’t even knew if she was married, or even involved with someone, if she had kids, and if she did something on weekends other than planning Gabriel Agreste’s schedule for the next week. Now that he actually thought of it, he never once asked her how she was doing.

            “N-no, nothing like that… I was just wondering…”

            “ _Yes?_ ”

            Seeing him struggle, Marinette flashed him an encouraging smile before sliding her hand in his and squeezing softly. The gesture startled him at first, but reassured him considerably– It was like some of her warmth had rubbed off on him and he instantly felt braver.

            “Are you free, now? Can you come here and talk about your job to my class?”

            “ _I- I beg your pardon_?” she asked, alarmed.

            “Well, it’s Career Day and Father isn’t coming. I was thinking maybe you could…”

            He didn’t finish the sentence and let his unspoken words hang in the air. Natalie was silent for an awfully long ten seconds, and he could feel her unease only by the sound of her irregular breathing.

            “ _Uh… Well, a-are you sure you want me to come? Maybe I can convince your father to show up_ ,” she offered, and he could imagine her readjusting her glasses or tightening her ponytail, just to put her hands at use.

            “I already called him. He knows it’s today and he doesn’t want to come. Please,” he tried again and this time, the pause was even longer.

            “ _Uh… Yes, sure. Why not? It will be a pleasure. I- What time?_ ”

            Adrien took a quick glance at the clock– His father was supposed to pass next in front of his class, but he was sure that if he explained the situation to Mrs. Bustier, she would be more than understanding.

            “How about in thirty minutes?”

            “ _O-okay, then. I- I’ll be on my way_.”

            “You’re the best, Natalie.”

            “So?” Marinette didn’t really need to ask– just seeing Adrien’s new found grin told her that he just received excellent news– but she could never pass on an opportunity to keep on talking to him.

            “You were right– She’s coming. Thank you so much, Marinette!” he exclaimed, pulling her in for bone-crushing hug. It took her a little by surprise but she managed to snap out of it and wrap her arms around him, before things got a little too awkward.

            “Uh… Y-you’re welcome!”

            “I mean it,” he said against her shoulder, and she could feel his warm breath on her nape. “You’re amazing. I feel like I don’t say it enough– Thanks for always being there for me, Marinette. You’re an incredible _friend_.”

            Friend. _Friend_. You’re an incredible _friend_.

            The word echoed in her head and stung.

            Adrien and her met during sophomore year, something like three years ago. She still wore pink jeans and flowery tee-shirts at the time, and brought cookies and muffins to her classmates whenever her father happened to bake an extra batch. She blushed easily and stuttered, her body, shutting down completely, whenever he was near. She had posters of him plastered all over her bedroom walls that she made a habit to kiss before going to sleep.

            But she was changed now. She had grown out of it. She wasn’t the stupid little girl that knew his schedule by heart and followed him around, in hope that they would run into each other, talk a little bit, and he’d finally realize that she was the only one for him–

            She wore ripped jeans and leather jackets now, and her Adrien posters were long gone. Her makeup skills were outstanding and she was taller, smarter, and more down-to-earth. She could talk to him and be comfortable enough around him to actually have deep conversations with him, get to know him as a person, and learn things about him that she would never know if she only relied on her night vision glasses and magazine interviews. Also, her breasts were bigger– She didn’t think he even noticed.

            He still saw her as his shy little classmate, and she was silly to hope that they would ever be anything more than that– anything _more_ than a friend. She was his friend, and she was going to be his friend forever.

            She sighed, put her hands on his shoulder and pressed lightly, withdrawing herself from him– He instantly stepped backwards, rubbing the back of his neck in a sheepish manner and looking down. He coyly mouthed a ‘sorry’, as his cheeks turned a little pink.

            “You’d do the same for me,” she said, smiling nonetheless. She then folded her arms together in an attempt to put some sort of a barrier between the two of them, and shrugged. “We should probably get back there, though...”

            _Before I just tackle you against these lockers and kill you for being so handsome and kissable and… so goddamn oblivious_ , she thought, but decided to keep the words to herself– If his bodyguard heard her, he might take the threat seriously and arrest her for attempted murder.

            Suddenly, she felt fifteen again, daydreaming about hot make-out sessions with Mr. Perfect-Agreste in the middle of empty hallways. She still remembered getting all flustered when their hands accidently touched or the way her heart just ruffled in her chest whenever they made eye-contact.

            She realized too late that he has been talking to her without her listening and forced herself back to reality. She nodded, and smiled, hoping that it would be enough, and followed him into the classroom. Mrs. Bustier immediately intercepted him and asked him about the situation, taking him apart not to disturb the ongoing presentation, and he was quick to explain everything. As expected, the teacher was very perceptive and forbearing about the whole thing and, more remarkably, rather excited about the surprise guest.

            When Adrien went back to his place, Nino too wanted some answers. “Don’t worry about it,” he assured him. “Marinette fixed everything,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder and waving gently.

            She returned the gesture awkwardly and earned a nudge from Alya. “Ouch! What was that for?” she grumbled, rubbing her arm where her best friend had just hit her.

            “You should totally ask him out, already!” she urged her in a whisper. “I’m telling you, he’s into you! He just doesn’t know it yet. Come on, M, it’s been three years…”

            “Exactly! It’s too late, now. We’ll be graduating in four months and he’ll be off to Rome, or Milan, or even New York and I’ll never see him again. We’re better off like this anyway.”

            “You’re so lame.”

            “I’m just being realistic. It’s no use to start dating now, only to break it off at the end of summer,” Marinette explained.

            “How are you eighteen? You know, the whole point of being a teenager is to be dumb and crazy and make terrible life choices that will haunt you forever. With you continuing to act so mature and responsible, what will you have left to tell your grandchildren when you grow up?”

            “I think they will have to settle for stories about their incredible great-aunt Alya.”

            “I _am_ pretty incredible, ain’t I?”

 

***

 

Many things have changed in the past three years–

            For instance, Alya got tired of the red and decided to change colors but plain simple blue still was too mainstream… Her hair counted now more than five different shades of green, using for the most part jade, pine green, and seaweed dye, to replicate the colors of the ocean and recreate the impression of indomitable waves pulsating around her face.

            In addition, Rose decided that yellow suited her best and gave up on her pink clothes and, at the beginning of junior year, Juleka chose to give the Baby Doll look a chance and was now a vision of pastel corsets and white lace.

            Sabrina discovered herself a new passion for reggae music and tried out dreadlocks and harem pants, to Chloe’s biggest discontent.

            New couples arose, others persisted or broke apart. New friendships were introduced, some faded away with time. People moved out of Paris, went South or abroad, and new students were accepted at _Dupont_.

            “Oh, please! Have you looked at yourself in a mirror, lately? Marinette, you could have any guy you want with a bat of an eye, if only you tried,” Mylène attested, pouring herself a third glass of punch before filling it with ice. She then walked up to Rose and took place next to her, her back resting against the window.

            It was too cold outside, so the girls decided to stay inside Chloe’s room tonight. Usually, they laid on beach lounge chairs beside the pool and stargazed for hours, exchanging the latest gossips and talking about boyfriends and crushes, while sipping on delicious strawberry Margaritas.

            Chloe lived in the penthouse of _The Grand Paris_ , so it was absurd for them to meet up anywhere else– Alya’s place was far too crowded with both her parents staying in almost every night and her three sisters coming and going all around the house. Juleka lived on a boat with her sloppy mom and her brother, where cleaning up from time to time was simply not an option– doing so could put their creative aura at risk– and all this mess was not exactly suited for a relaxing evening with her friends.

            “Come on, that’s _so_ not true,” Marinette countered, ducking her head between her knees and wrapping her arms around her legs.

            “Yu-uh!” Mylène insisted again, resting her head on Sabrina’s shoulder– the latter nodded in support. “You have the face, the body, the confidence… And I don’t know any guy that would say no to you.”

            “Ha, I call _bullshit_ ,” Chloe intervened, lifting up an eyebrow and popping a Tagada Strawberry into her mouth.

            Alya snorted. “You’re bullshit, Ms. I-hate-her-‘cause-I-have-a-crush-on-her.”

            Chloe rolled her eyes in an exasperated manner. “Are you still throwing this in my face? It’s been two years, Césaire, and might I remind you that I have a boyfriend, now?” Alya chuckled. “Besides, I’m not saying she’s not pretty. I’m just saying that she _definitely_ can’t have any guy she wants.”

            “And how would _you_ know?” Alya challenged her, a hint of mischief shining in her eyes.

            “Well, she _has_ been pining after a certain someone for… what? Like three years, now? Is it?” Chloe wondered, as her lips curled up into quirk smile.

            Marinette shrugged. “She isn’t wrong, you know…” she agreed in a low voice, earning a wink from the mayor’s daughter.

            Alya wouldn’t have any of it. “Marinette can have _anyone_ she wants, all while still putting in zero effort.”

            Chloe scoffed. “Wanna bet?”

            “Name your prize, Barbie!” the girl with the mermaid hair exclaimed and Marinette was quick to shoot her a threatening look.

            “I want your pass to enter the Parliamentary Assembly thrown in the honor of Ladybug and Cat Noir next month.”

            Alya frowned, a little confused. “You’re Bourgeois’ daughter. Can’t you get in by yourself?”

            Chloe shook her head. “No, actually. Even Daddy couldn’t get me an entry– But I don’t care, since I’ll have yours.”

            “Yeah, right. If _I_ win, I get your Aqua-Ladybug figurine… _and_ your yo-yo– the one that can create holograms of Ladybug and Cat Noir.”

            “I don’t think that’s quite fair…” Chloe remarked, pouting.

            “Fuck you, Bourgeois, you’ll get to actually talk to Ladybug. All I’m asking for is some stupid toys,” Alya giggled, taking a large sip of her drink.

            Chloe took a minute to think about it, then nodded. “You’re right. But if _I_ win, you will have to wear the clown nose for your yearbook picture.”

            This last line suddenly picked the interest of the other girls who all whistled in unison, straightening up and looking back from Chloe to Alya with wide smiles and round, curious eyes.

            Two souls as competitive and as obsessed with winning as were Chloe and Alya could not possibly co-exist without staring contests, races, and stupid bets to spice up their friendship.

            Each time, there had to be a winner, and thus, a loser. And in order for the latter to not forget what they are, they had to wear the _clown nose_. The concept was introduced earlier this year and today, Alya has worn it for a total of twenty-eight days, four hours and fifty minutes, whereas Chloe had been seen with it during thirty days and seven hours, overall.

            “Well, if _you_ lose, you’ll have to wear it for _your_ yearbook picture,” Alya defied.

            “Girls, please,” Marinette tried, and failed, to make them listen to reason. “What are you even betting on?”

            Marinette regretted her question the second Chloe shot her one of her craftiest look. “You, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, are said to be able to seduce any guy you want. Is that correct?”

            “I wouldn’t… I never said that!” Marinette defended herself, blushing.

            “Yes, correct,” Alya said nonetheless.

            “Then, if I, Chloe Bourgeois, picked a random guy in Paris, you will be able to, let’s say, _beguile_ him into doing _anything_?”

            Marinette stiffened in her place. “Alya, Chloe, I _really_ don’t like where this is going…”

            “That’s exactly what we’re saying,” Alya replied, royally ignoring her best friend’s complaints.

            Chloe let out a derisive laugh and got on her feet, walking determinedly towards her dresser then her nightstand and scouring through the countless number of drawers and cupboards, to finally find what she was looking for, before getting back to her friends, sitting on the ground, right next to the bay window. She looked way too confident for Marinette’s liking when she tossed the clown nose towards Alya.

            “Then, I choose _Cat Noir_ ,” she said, and Marinette’s heart skipped a beat.

            There was a silence and Marinette’s thoughts went ballistic inside her head, screaming, pounding against her skull, urging her to get her out of this as quickly as possible. Her ears were bleeding suddenly and her veins were boiling up, and she was so hot, and so uncomfortable, immediately aware of the dozen of layers she was wearing. Her skin itched and her hair was falling off, and she couldn’t breathe, let alone talk, and Chloe was staring at her with straight shoulders and a high chin, and she just didn’t know what to do, how to respond, the words were simply stuck in her throat.

            The other girls were looking at her, now, for the most part amused by this turn of event, and Marinette knew that if she looked desperate enough, Rose would end up running to her rescue. But she didn’t, and the bluenette wanted to die.

            She took in a deep breath.

            The bet was easy. “You make _Cat Noir_ go down on you in less than a month, and I’ll wear the clown nose for my yearbook picture, plus, Alya gets my Aqua-Ladybug and my yo-yo,” Chloe Bourgeois said, a sly smirk on her lips, as Marinette’s cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red. “If you win, I’ll even give up my place at the Spring Ball this year. This _means_ you’ll get to go as _Adrien_ ’s date.”

            Marinette’s eyes rounded in surprise and she went agape. "S-Spring B… _Adrien’s date_?” she stuttered, and she never, in her entire life, felt as exposed as she was right now.

            Chloe folded her arms over her chest. “This way, you too get something in the process. So, what do you say?”

            “I– Uh… I– Listen, Chloe…”

            “ _We’re in_!” Alya shrieked, not wasting another second to shake the blond devil’s hand, without once glancing over at her best friend to see if she, who was, after all, one of the parties involved, was even okay with all of this.

            “ALYA!” Marinette screeched, stunned with utter outrage and disbelief.

            “The deal’s sealed, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe cackled. “Alya? Have I ever told you how good you look when you cosplay as Rudolph?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Nasty Gal, Betty Davis](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWFvXNA5-eQ)


	2. Bubblegum Bitch

“ _Envy_ , from the Latin _invidia_ , similarly to greed and lust, is characterized by an insatiable desire. It can be described as a sad or resentful covetousness towards the traits or possessions of someone else” ( _Oxford Pocket English Dictionary_ , 2014).

 

***

 

Marinette had bottomed-up her fourth Tequila shot in Chloe’s kitchenette when she was joined by her soon-to-be-dead best friend, Alya Césaire. She didn’t bother to look at her, as she poured some more alcohol into her empty glass.

            “You sure you wanna do that?” the greenette asked, nervously twisting her fingers together.

            Marinette gave her the cold shoulder and drank up the Tequila– She could go to seventeen and still fight off an akuma, so five little shots wouldn’t really do her any harm. It wasn’t exactly something she was proud of, but when you spend that much time with Alya and Chloe, you learned to build a pretty high tolerance to alcohol.

            “Look, I’m _sorry_ , okay? I just– I _really_ want the Aqua-Ladybug figurine.” Marinette rolled her eyes at her, refusing to talk to her still. “You don’t understand–“ Alya whined, letting her head drop in her hands.

            “ _You_ don’t understand, Alya!” Marinette almost yelled back. “Do you even know what you’re asking me?”

            Alya’s head jerked up suddenly and the large smile on her face made her friend slightly uncomfortable. “You talked to me!” she grinned even wider.

            Marinette frowned. “I’m not gonna do it, Alya!” she exclaimed, as she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her with a defiant look. “I’m not an expert or anything, but I’m pretty sure that’s a form of sexual harassment.”

            “Nothing’s forcing you or anything, you know,” Chloe’s mocking voice replied, as she entered the kitchenette, followed by Mylène and Juleka. “You could save us all some time and declare forfeit.”

            Marinette snorted and turned her back at the girls. Mylène finally took pity on her. “Come on, Chloe. The whole thing is so unfair, you know it.”

            “It wouldn’t be fair if the guy was gay,” Chloe countered, her hands on her hips. “Which he’s not.”

            “Well, what if he already has a girlfriend?” Juleka intervened, in her all soever soft and delicate voice.

            Chloe let out a derisive chuckle. “With the way he constantly throws himself at Ladybug? Doubt it.”

            “Exactly!” Marinette exclaimed, spinning around, seeing it as the perfect excuse to cancel the whole bet. “Cat Noir’s like totally in love with Ladybug. No way he’s gonna go for _me_.”

            Chloe folded her arms together and smirked. “And that is why I am so sure I’m going to win that bet. I mean… Come on? Sure, you’re pretty and smart and everything, but there’s no way in Hell you can compete against _Ladybug_ and actually _win_.”

            Marinette opened her mouth to say something but the words died on her tongue and Chloe laughed at her poor attempt. Suddenly, something boiled inside of her, sending sparks all through her body, and she walked over to the mayor’s daughter, staring at her with dark eyes and a closed expression. Chloe gulped audibly but didn’t make a movement to back away.

            _Ladybug_ was _nothing_ without Marinette, and the latter was getting sick of people always praising her other half, falling in love with her, and speaking of her as if she was some sort of unattainable goddess, all while disregarding and discounting the _real_ her.

            Ladybug was _flawed_. Ladybug was just a shell, a shadow people trusted blindly, but Marinette was the real deal. Ladybug didn’t take any hits; she let Marinette suffer the sore muscles and bruises.

            Ladybug was never tired; she let Marinette show up late to class with big bags under her eyes.    

            Ladybug was never accountable for her mistakes; she let Marinette miss school and other events and deal with disappointing her friends and family.

            _Ladybug_ would stand zero chance against _Marinette Dupain-Cheng_ , and if the latter had to seduce her partner to prove it to the world, then by golly, the game was on.

            “When I win, you are going to be sorry, Bourgeois,” she told her simply, before turning around, and walking out of the kitchenette with straight shoulders and her chin in the air.

            “Girl, you just pressed the bitch button,” Alya remarked, wide-eyed, still astonished at her best friend’s attitude. “I didn’t see her like this since like… tenth grade or something.” She smirked at the blonde girl. “You are _so_ gonna lose.”

            Chloe frowned. “We’ll see about that. I– There’s no way,” she tried to sound convincing.

            Alya snickered. “The girl has the investigation skills of Lisbeth Salander and the sex appeal of Catherine Tramell. All she needs is an opportunity. You, my friend, are _fucked_ ,” she concluded, grabbing the neck of the Tequila bottle and gulping down a large sip of alcohol.

 

***

 

The next day, Marinette Dupain-Cheng asked her parents for an advance on the money they were going to spend on her birthday present. But then, when she realized it wasn’t enough for what she intended to buy, she also asked for an advance on the money they were going to spend on her Christmas present.

            Sabine was skeptical at first, but her daughter managed to convince her that she needed it to purchase some really costly fabric that will impress Gabriel Agreste for sure at the annual Spring Ball Opening Ceremony– plus, Tom and she won’t need to ponder for hours on what to get her anymore.

            “Don’t you need to be invited to such events?” Sabine asked, while signing a cheque for her daughter.

            “Yeah, I’m taking Chloe’s place,” Marinette replied, her hands behind her back.

            “How come?”

            Marinette shrugged. “I don’t know,” she lied. “She always says that those kinds of events bore her to death so, when I told her that it could be a huge opportunity for me, she jumped on the occasion and gave me her place. Plus, this year, it falls on the same night of Nate’s exposition. And… well, she kinda wants to be there for him, ya know? Girlfriend duties and everything.”

            “Huh,” Sabine sounded unconvinced. “This girl really has changed, hasn’t she?”

            “Yeah, totally,” Marinette was quick to say, reaching for the money to put it in her bag. “I’m going to cash that, and go straight to the shop.”

            “Okay, sweetheart. Will Alya be going with you?”

            “I don’t know. She said she was stuck babysitting her sisters.”

 

In Marinette’s opinion, the third district was one of the best shopping places. There were many vintage stores and secondhand shops that often went unnoticed, and little invisible boutiques hid in quiet alleys no one really knew existed. There, she always found unique pieces she either wore or worked with.

            But today, Marinette decided to hop on the fourth subway line and landed on the Rue de Rennes, right next to Saint-Placide café. With her earphones on, she confidently walked into _H &M_ to buy a big chunk of cheap clothes, before moving on to _Etam_ where she bought a couple of new bras with matching underwear– _Sephora_ was her next stop.

            Marinette always liked shopping– Surrounded by clothes, and make-up, and fabric, and jewelry, and cloth, and mannequins, she just… she felt like she was in her element.

            She made faces to the mirror, tried out dresses she knew didn’t flatter her figure, walked around in a pair of jeans she knew would never wear, spent hours in dressing rooms accessorizing an outfit that didn’t really look that good on her, and, sometimes, managed to put her hand on some sort of fashion treasure, she knew she just had to have.

            She always liked to change styles, mix it up a little, and was simply fascinated by the history of fashion– She rocked the 50s with voluminous petticoats and floral dresses, went full Goth on Wednesdays, then switched back to dungarees and flannels on weekends. She had no problem wearing high heels to school and never missed an opportunity to experiment with colored eyeliners, golden mascara, and body glitter.

            Some people wrote stories to express themselves and empty their minds, others painted, or danced, some people sang and played music, or did sport… Well, for Marinette, it was clothes. She liked drawing them, making them, styling them, and there was nothing an afternoon of shopping couldn’t fix.

            “I don’t think it suits you,” Tikki remarked, landing on her owner’s shoulder, as Marinette turned around in the dressing room at _Az-USA_ , looking at herself in every possible angle.

            “I could belt it,” Marinette suggested, tugging on the fabric around her middle to make her curves more visible and tilting her head to the side. “And cut out the sleeves.”

            Tikki shook her head. “Orange is a horrible color on you.”

            “Maybe even shorten it a bit,” Marinette went on, ignoring her kwami’s comments. “And even lighten it with some bleach.”

            Tikki rolled her eyes at her. “Sounds like a lot of work.”

            “I’m gonna take it.”

            She instructed Tikki to hide in her purse as she walked out of the fitting rooms, her ridiculous orange dress in one hand, then towards the cashier. She liked to come to this shop because she knew Luka Couffaine, Juleka’s twin brother, worked here as a retailer.

            The first things one noticed about Luka were the blueness of his hair and his mind-blowing nail art skills. Then, when he smiled, one could see the light that danced in his eyes. “Found what you were looking for?” he asked, as he took her dress from her and entered the barcode in the computer.

            “Almost,” she answered. “I’m still not sure what I’m searching for, though. I just know it’s somewhere.”

            Luka nodded, then asked, “What happened?”

            Her eyes rounded at once. “W-What do you mean?”

            “You always go around shopping your arms and legs off when you’re upset,” he simply said, chuckling.

            Marinette’s shoulders dropped. “You noticed that? _How_?”

            Luka blushed a little, and shrugged. “I just… notice things. That’s all… W-were you able to listen to the mix?” he then wondered, in an attempt to change the subject.

            “Yeah, actually!” Marinette said happily. “I downloaded it just yesterday, in fact…” she carried on, scouring her bag in search of something. “But… I think I left the USB at home. I’ll give it back on Monday, for sure!” she quickly assured him.

            He smiled, shook his head. “Or don’t. It’s fine– I have like a _thousand_ of them. Mom always gets me a whole bunch of them on my birthday. She never knows what to get me, so she just buys them plain and simple and customizes them– I’ll probably get another ten on the fifteenth, it’s become our ritual now.”

            “Oh! That’s _true_! Your birthdays are soon!” Marinette suddenly remembered, slapping a hand against her forehead. “I’m so sorry– I was so busy with… I totally _forgot_! What kind of friend am I?!” she scolded herself, tugging on her pigtails, making Luka laugh. “It’s not funny! You _never_ forget my birthday!”

            “Well, you still have time to throw me a huge surprise party and buy me an MBA1 Dean guitar,” he assured her, as he packed her dress in a paper bag, after telling her how much she owed him.

            “You hate parties,” she reminded him, with creased eyelids, handing him the money. “And you have like five guitars, already. Besides, I’m sure I’d have to sell a kidney to be able to afford it.”

            “Good thing you have two of those, then,” he teased her, winking.

            “God, you’re incorrigible. But, seriously, what are you gonna do this year?”

            “ _Falling in Reverse_ is in concert in Paris on the seventeenth– I already got the tickets… Well, I was supposed to go with Juleka but… Rose wants to take her out on a romantic date or something and… I don’t know, I don’t really want to get in between the two of them,” he said. “I asked my mom, but she’ll be busy with her gallery that day, so…” He pouted, letting his unspoken words hang in the air.

            Marinette rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “ _Falling in Reverse_? Why does this name sound familiar?”

            “I put some of their songs on the mix,” he explained simply.

            “Right! Yeah! What was it called? _I’m Bad At Life_ – Ooh, I absolutely _loved_ that song.”

            “I’ll make sure to select some more of their songs for next Friday, then.”

            A light sparkled in Marinette’s eyes. “Or maybe, this time, _I_ could make _you_ one. What do you think?”

            The proposition caught him a little off-guard, but Luka was able to regain composure quickly enough. His cheeks were bright red, but Marinette didn’t seem to notice. “O-oh, uh, y-yeah… Yeah, yes! S-sure! Uh… I w-would like t-that,” he managed to choke out, after an unimaginably long ten seconds of silence.

            “And if you’re still looking for someone to buy your other ticket, I would be happy to come with you!” she added, making his brain break down instantly. “Okay, well, let me know! A-and see you on Monday, yeah?” she blurted out awkwardly when Luka didn’t answer. She still waited for him to say something, but all he did was nodding frenetically, laughing nervously, and avoiding her gaze, so, ultimately, she just left.

            “Boys are stupid,” one of Luka’s colleagues commented, before entering the storage room, and the blue-haired teen just let his head fall on the counter, hating himself and his total lack of charisma.

            “Poor Luka, I think you broke him,” Tikki’s little voice came from Marinette’s purse.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the latter grumbled between her teeth.

            “Sure, you don’t!” the little red kwami exclaimed, sticking her giant head out of her hiding. “You basically asked him out on his birthday…”

            “ _Please_ … He was gonna go with his sister. Besides, I’ll be reimbursing him the ticket, so... Also, what are you talking about? Luka’s just a friend.”

            “Does _he_ know that?” Tikki shot back cheekily, earning a frown from Marinette.

            The teen was about to say something, when her eye caught André’s ice cream truck, parking somewhere at the end of the street, and her words were lost forever. “Are you in for some ice cream, Tikki? I think I just spotted André’s truck.”

            “You know very well that I’d never say no to that!” Tikki replied, plunging back into her owner’s purse, while the latter sprinted, her bags in hands, towards the street corner.

            There was already a huge line when she arrived, but she waited nonetheless, certain now that _this_ was what she was looking for all day.

            “Hey, Marinette!” said a voice behind her, and she just froze as she recognized it.

            “A-Adrien! W-what are you… What are you here doing? I mean what-what are you doing here?” she asked, already feeling sweat drops forming at the back of her neck.

            “Oh, nothing. I was just walking around in the neighborhood, and I saw André,” he outlined briefly. “I see you went shopping,” he remarked, taking place right beside her in the line. “’Found anything cool?”

            “Oh, uh… actually, I just bought those clothes so I could use their patterns as models– I spent all of last night drawing some new designs…”

            “That’s cool, too,” he smiled, but she looked away, and seemed a little sad. He immediately reached for her shoulder, making her jump, but she didn’t try to shoo his hand off. “What is it?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

            She sighed. “Nothing. Well– _Not_ nothing but… I can’t really tell you.”

            He raised both his eyebrows at her. “Why not?”

            “Well, it’s… p-p-personal, ya know?”

            “You don’t need to tell me _everything_ ,” he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just need to know which subjects to avoid, while attempting to cheer you up!”

            She was blushing heavily, but she always blushed and stuttered usually, so Adrien didn’t really read into it– Marinette was sometimes a little shy and nervous, and she rambled on her words more often than not, but would eventually form complete, coherent sentences, if he was patient enough. So he just stood there, as calm and serene as possible, and waited. “It’s stupid,” she sighed. “We were at Chloe’s, yesterday, and Alya and her... they were just being… well, _Alya and Chloe_ , I guess.”

            He chuckled. “They made another bet?”

            “Yeah… and somehow, I got in the middle of it.”

            He smirked at her, lifting up an eyebrow. “Really?”

            She nodded. “If I, by some sort of miracle, win this _thing_ , I get to attend the Spring Ball Opening Ceremony instead of Chloe.”

            “That’s amazing! You’ll get to meet lots of people!” he encouraged. “Plus, I’ll be there– I’ll be sure to properly introduce you to my father, and some of his colleagues. It’ll be awesome!”

            She tucked her head down, and her cheeks were even redder than earlier. “B-but only if I _win_ ,” she reminded him.

            “Oh, you’ll win– Don’t worry about it,” he assured her.

            “You don’t even know what it’s about!” she pouted, glancing away.

            He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer in a comforting, yet very platonic side-hug. “I have complete faith in you, Marinette. You’ll win. There’s no doubt,” he said to her ear.

            “I still don’t know if I’m even going to do it,” she whispered, as he let go of her.

            He smiled brightly. “Don’t let it scare you off, whatever it is. I know you’re capable of anything– Plus, the Spring Ball would be like a huge opportunity. You’d meet many people, maybe even score an internship or two, if you make sure to design your dress, and it’d be easier to ask for recommendation letters for Berlin, this way,” he told her, more confident than ever, and, for a second, she really wanted to believe him.

            But… she couldn’t do this to Cat Noir– She didn’t think she could do it at all. Yesterday, when she told Chloe off, she had been drinking, and wasn’t thinking straight, and she knew it was going to take all of her strength on Monday, to tell her and Alya that she refused to take part in their stupid bet.

            She sighed again, shrugged, and was about to say something when Adrien offered to carry some of her bags– Immediately, she forgot where who or what she was, and the sky was a giant canvas, and every square inch of it was covered with Adrien’s face.

            Their fingers brushed, her heart exploded, but she managed to act somewhat normal, until it was finally their turn.

            “What a beautiful couple!” André greeted them, throwing his hands in the air. “Young love must be the most precious thing in the world!”

            Adrien just smiled and, while he didn’t really feel the urge to correct the ice cream maker, it was Marinette’s first instinct. “W-we’re n-not toge… together! We are _not_ together– We uh… We’re just f-friends… _Friends_!”

            The word hurt, but false hope stung even more.

            “She’s right,” Adrien said very politely. “We’re not together.”

            “Oh, well, what a shame!” André remarked, suddenly making Marinette extremely uncomfortable. “But that’s okay because I know just what kind of ice cream will make up for it… So, let’s see, let’s see…” he said, a cone in one hand and his ice cream scooper in the other, “oh, I know, peach pink, like his lips, and mint, like his eyes,” he almost sang– André always knew which flavors to put together for his clients, and not one has ever been disappointed. “For the lovely lady,” he said, handing her the ice cream.

            Her whole face turned red, while a lighter pink stretched on her neck and arms. It took everything she had in her _not_ to look at Adrien. “I-I… I don’t know anyone that fits the… this uh description,” she lied, right to André’s face, but the latter only smiled at her.

            “Don’t worry, he’ll come around. You just need to be patient,” he told her, before shifting towards Adrien. “What about you, young man? Oh, I know! Strawberry with black chocolate chips,” he guessed, grabbing another cone on his counter, “blackberries just like her hair, and blueberry ice cream, like her sky blue stare!” he exclaimed happily, giving Adrien his ice cream, and the latter was simply stunned by the accuracy of André’s depiction.

            “H-how did-did you know?” Adrien almost blurted out, taking his cone in both hands, still marveling at the colors.

            André let out a warm laugh. “They don’t call me the sweetheart’s ice cream maker for nothing, you know! Come on! It’s on the house! You just enjoy your ice creams, kids,” he told them, his hands on his hips.

            They were about to protest, but he held a hand up to stop them. “Go on, then!” he pressed them, shooing them away, and Marinette and Adrien didn’t have a choice but to obey.

            They walked a bit on the streets, before taking place on a bench to enjoy their ice creams. Adrien tried to fill the silence, while Marinette remained quiet, nervously nibbling at her cone, but it was Tikki, really, who did the honors– Adrien liking another girl just managed to make her feel sick and lose her appetite.

            She glanced at him, enjoying his ice cream. Blackberries just like her hair, and blueberry ice cream like her sky blue hair, she recalled André’s words. But she didn’t know what the strawberry stood for. Maybe her lips, she tried to guess, maybe she always wore red lipstick or something. Maybe she just really liked red.

            Marinette bit on her upper lip to keep from throwing up her own heart, and discretely pointed a spoonful of ice cream in Tikki’s direction.

            Her kwami was very red, too, she noted. She was so tiny, her body was entirely red, and she had blue eyes like Marinette and three black spots on her face. She was always very patient with her owner, and kind, and pushed her to do good and feel more confident– Sometimes, Marinette wondered what she would’ve become, if it wasn’t for Tikki, or Ladybug, for that matter.

            Instantly, her head jerked up at Adrien, as a crazy thought crossed her stream of thoughts.

            “Marinette?” he wondered, a bit concerned by her sudden reaction.

            She ignored him and just stared at him, directly in the eye, making him gulp, and shift uncomfortably, and asked, “is _Ladybug_ the girl you have a crush on?”

            Adrien’s skin swelled under his clothes, and, immediately, everything itched furiously. “Uh… I-I mean… Well, she is like… pretty awesome, isn’t she? C-can you really blame me? I…”

            Marinette frowned and almost crushed her ice cream cone in her hand, yesterday’s thoughts, slowly taking over every bit of poise and self-control she still had. “Ladybug is just an image, you know,” she told him harshly, as she got up on her feet and grabbed her shopping bags. “Being in love with her without knowing her is just… _shallow_. Behind the mask, she’s just a teenage girl with acne and school on Monday.” _She doesn’t deserve all this attention she’s constantly receiving, and she sure as Hell doesn’t deserve you_ , she almost said, but bit her tongue and swallowed the words just in time.

            “Well, yeah, I guess, and I think that’s what makes her so exceptional– That she’s just human, out of costume, and probably just as flawed as the rest of us,” he countered, standing up as well, but Marinette was still angry, and she wanted to be gone now.

            _Ladybug was_ nothing _compared to her,_ and she was going to prove it to Adrien, to Chloe and Alya, and to the rest of the world as well.

            “It was fun hanging out with you, Adrien,” she said, a little calmer, but she avoided his gaze. “But I think I better head home. I’ve been out since this morning, and I’m beginning to tire.”

            “Oh, yeah, s-sure,” Adrien was quick to reply. “Do you need any help with your bags? I could walk you…” he suggested, rubbing the back of his neck, but she only stiffened and stepped backward.

            “I’ll manage,” she refused. “I don’t live that far away.”

            He seemed a little disappointed, but didn’t insist. “Oh, okay, then. See you on Monday?”

            “Y-yeah,” she breathed, before taking her leave, without once glancing back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Bubblegum Bitch, Marina & The Diamonds](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d1eQLw0Nwto)


	3. Bad Reputation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! Finally the MariChat chapter we were all waiting for :D  
> Enjoy ;P

“Greed, from the Latin _avaritia_ , also known as avarice and cupidity, is a sin of desire. It is the intense and selfish want for something, especially wealth, power, or food” ( _Oxford Pocket English Dictionary,_ 2014). Greed is the third gate to Hell, after Anger, and Lust.

 

***

 

When Marinette finished her homework on Sunday night, her parents were already asleep– They were bakers, after all. Going to bed with the chickens and being up before sunrise was basically in their job description at this point.

            Saying that Marinette’s sleep cycle wasn’t as organized and calculated as Tom and Sabine’s was putting it lightly– sometimes, she would stay awake for forty-eight hours straight, just lying idly in bed, thinking too loudly, imagining all kinds of end-of-world scenarios that would take place if Hawk Moth were ever to get his hands on hers and her partner’s Miraculouses, while Tikki snoozed peacefully on a pillow next to her. Other times, she would just go deep into a sleep coma for a whole weekend, and then put the blame on her Ladybug-ing all night long.

            “Okay! I’m done! Let’s go!” she exclaimed, yawning, lazily stretching her arms behind her back, as Tikki landed on an empty shelf of her bookcase, looking at her with big, blue, curious eyes.

            “I thought it was Cat Noir’s turn to patrol, tonight.”

            “Yeah, it is,” Marinette answered in an evasive manner, avoiding the little goddess’s gaze, and quickly getting to her feet. Tikki flew over to her and forced her to look up at her. When Marinette did, her kwami was frowning.

            “Then, where are we going?”

            The bluenette shrugged, bit on her lower lip, and folded her arms over her stomach, but Tikki insisted. “I kinda need Ladybug’s help to get on the rooftop of Notre-Dame…”

            The kwami didn’t seem to get it at first, but then, something shone inside her eyes, and her pout was even more pronounced. “Marinette, _no_.”

            “Come on, Tikki! I’m not doing anything wrong!” Marinette defended herself, but even she wasn’t fully convinced about what she was saying.

            “You’re taking advantage of your partner– _and_ you’re lying to him,” Tikki countered, her paws on her hips.

            “I’m not lying to him… _exactly_ – Uh… I’m just… not telling him the whole truth,” she grumbled under her breath, blushing slightly, and glancing away from her kwami’s very disapproving look.

            “It counts as lying!” Tikki almost shouted, and she was lucky Marinette’s parents were such heavy sleepers. “You can’t have both Adrien and Cat Noir. That’s just being greedy.”

            Marinette’s skin suddenly lit on fire and she immediately tucked her head down, closing her eyes. “I don’t… I don’t _have_ Adrien. His so-called feelings for Ladybug are nothing but a stupid celebrity crush.”

            “You’re being ridiculous. Why do you choose to ignore his feelings, when you acknowledge Cat Noir’s?” Tikki argued, shaking her head.

            “Because Cat Noir is my partner!” Marinette shrieked, still staring at her feet, as her hands tugged on her pigtails. She took a deep breath to calm down and apologized for raising her voice. Tikki smiled and gently patted her cheek to let her know that it was okay. “He _knows_ me–“ the bluenette carried on, “he’s had plenty of occasions to change his mind, and he didn’t. Adrien only ever saw Ladybug on her best behavior, when she’s strong and flawless and beautiful– of _course_ , he’d fall in love with her,” she mumbled the last sentence, biting her lip in frustration. “He fell for the perfect version of me… just like everyone else. D-does it make sense?” she then asked, slowly looking up at her kwami.

            Tikki’s face softened a little. “I guess so.”

            Marinette smiled and lifted a finger to stroke her kwami on the head, before glancing at her phone to look at the time– it was almost eleven thirty, and she could miss Cat Noir if she stayed here another minute. “Come on, you can scold me later for this. _Spots on_!”

            Tikki sighed her disappointment before zooming into her owner’s earrings. A flash of pink light invaded the room, and a couple seconds later, Ladybug was standing at Marinette’s place.

            Her costume didn’t seem like much, really– red latex scattered with black polka dots. No wings, or shiny collar bell, no extra ears or animated tail, just a ladybug-themed suit that stuck to her like a second skin, and left _very_ little to the imagination– but, in reality, it was indestructible and considerably enhanced her physical aptitudes, allowing her to parcour across Paris’ rooftops, and push her body’s limits indefinitely.

            Her mask was magic, too; it kept her parents from recognizing her and her friends from wondering about her civilian self’s whereabouts during akuma attacks, or when she was transformed. She had a yo-yo as a weapon– she found it a little odd at first, but ended up getting used to it, like she got used to people– girls, especially– staring at pictures of her rear, or comparing the size of her thighs with theirs– she knew for a fact, for instance, that Mylène’s New Year’s resolution was to follow the Ladybug-special-ten-simple-steps-diet that was published in _Cosmopolitan Magazine_ , a little while ago, to build herself some superhero-worthy muscles.

            Sometimes, Marinette thought that Ladybug was like the upgraded version of herself. That, if Cat Noir only ever met the real her, he wouldn’t feel the same way about her– just like Adrien. The thought made her angry, rather than sad, but she knew there wasn’t much she could do about it, anyway.

            Ladybug and Marinette didn’t have the same fears or the same hopes. Even their personalities were slightly different. Ladybug was louder, bolder, and fiercer, whereas Marinette was more of a tranquil force, a quiet rebellion.

            She landed on the cathedral’s rooftop without a sound, joined her hands above her head to crack her knuckles and stretch before dropping her transformation. It was really cold, outside, but she was wearing five layers of clothing, at least, and didn’t forget to put her coat, beanie and boots on before she left.

            “Now, what?” Tikki asked, floating in front of her owner’s face.

            The latter kneeled to sit on the freezing concrete, then laid her back on the floor to watch the stars, her nose and cheeks already red from the chilly wind. “Now, we wait,” she whispered softly, idly crossing her arms behind her head, and letting Tikki dive into one of her stuffed pockets.

            The sky was beautiful tonight, she thought to herself. The full moon shone in a pool of black gold and diamonds, and not a cloud was to be seen– she doubted she would have gotten such a lovely sight from her balcony.

            Sometimes, she liked to go outside to breathe Paris in. The capital was especially scenic at night, when the lack of sunlight hid all of its imperfections, the pollution, the noisy crowds, the nasty tags on century-old buildings.

            A soft sigh escaped her lips. The darkness was, in a way, more comforting than the day. The sun shone brightly, exposing everyone to the eyes of the world, unveiling bare truths and daunting realities that people weren’t yet ready to accept, whereas the void of the murk kept every frightening thought, every word, and every secret, one dared to whisper in its direction. It was easier to act stubborn and selfish, and to make bad choices, when we knew no one was looking– The stars were too far away and the moon never judged anyone.

            “How did you get here?” a boy’s voice asked, forcing her out of her reverie, and Marinette didn’t even need to look to know it was Cat Noir– no one other than he could get up here, anyway.

            She smiled to no one and said, “secret.”

            She heard him shift then walk towards her, his heavy boots screeching on the concrete. “No, seriously. All the doors are locked.”

            “No, seriously. It’s a secret,” she replied cheekily, clicking her tongue.

            “Whatever,” he mumbled. “You can’t stay here. It counts as trespassing, and trespassing is like a criminal offense.”

            She turned her head in his direction– he was squatting next to a statue– and raised both her eyebrows, making them disappear under her bangs. “Are you gonna call the cops on me?” she asked innocently.

             “I– N-no, of course not!” he blurted out, shaking his head, her question, taking him a little by surprise, and making him blush.

            “Then, why are you making a big deal out of it?”

            He breathed in and shrugged. “How will you even get down?”

            “I have my ways.”

            “If you say so.” A pause. Marinette looked back at the sky. “D-do you want me to leave?”

            She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “You can stay. Your presence doesn’t bother me– I kinda like having you around, if I’m being honest.”

            Cat Noir’s leather ears straightened at this. “R-really? But… you don’t even know me.”

            “I know enough. You’re good company, plus, you have a good vibe,” she said without thinking.

            Cat Noir remained quiet, as he crawled to where Marinette was laying down and stretched out next to her. They didn’t speak for a while, before he decided to say something. “When I was a kid, I used to stargaze with my mom all the time,” he told her, as he realized that he was very comfortable with the idea of sharing this information with Marinette– he wondered why he never said anything like that to her before. “She knew the names of all the constellations and told stories about them… We settled on a lounge chair in the backyard and looked at the sky for hours. It’s been a while since I did that.”

            “What was your favorite story?” she asked, after a short silence.

            Cat Noir took a deep breath and lifted a finger towards the sky to show her the Ursa Major constellation. She had to scoot closer to him to be able to see it.

            “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful nymph named Kallisto who lived in a cabin in the middle of the woods. She was one of Artemis’ many followers– Artemis was the goddess of the Moon and the Hunt, who only ever killed by need and who made a point to punish any man that was cruel enough to target a mother or made his prey suffer,” he began, his voice, soft as a whisper, and Marinette suddenly found herself unable to take her eyes off of him– He didn’t notice her staring– his gaze was focused on the constellation, and his mind was already miles away. “Kallisto was chaste and pure, and animals loved her because her kind nature had no limits.

            “One day, while Zeus was sitting on his throne in Olympus, he accidentally glanced her way. She was at her window, nursing a little bird’s broken wing, and singing a soft lullaby to keep it from being afraid. The king of all gods fell in love with her immediately, but the nymph had already sworn herself to Artemis and thus couldn’t return his feelings,” Cat Noir sighed, letting his arms fall down next to him. Marinette blushed as he turned her way to face her but, just when she was about to look away, she decided better to hold his gaze, and smiled. He smiled back.

            Some people were just built to be the perfect friends, the perfect human beings, he thought, as he allowed the bright color of her eyes to take over him– if he stared too much, or too deeply into them, it would probably be enough to make him fall in love with her. Marinette was living proof of that, the breathing incarnation of the seven heavenly virtues. Her flaws simply lost their meanings when they were confronted with her infinite generosity, her ability to forgive, and sacrifice, her hard work and compassion, her modesty and bravery. She never gave up on anything, or anyone, and her boundless passion for life made her seem like the best thing humanity had to offer to the world.

            “What happened then?” she asked.

            “Zeus couldn’t stop thinking about her so, one night, he took Artemis’ form and visited Kallisto. He was able to seduce her without her knowing.

            “She became pregnant soon after and was discovered by the real Artemis who was so furious, she turned the poor nymph into a giant bear, before banishing her from the group and leaving her alone in the forest. She took away hers and Zeus’ son, Arcas, and raised him as the hunter Kallisto would never be.”

            Marinette’s eyes widened, as her smile dropped instantly. “That’s horrible! Didn’t Zeus do anything to protect her?”

            Cat Noir shook his head. “Zeus fell in love with Kallisto while he was married to Hera. He couldn’t do anything, even if he wanted to. Besides, I don’t think he still cared about her after their night together– Zeus was known to fall in love, seduce and abuse beautiful girls, before leaving them with no further explanation.”

            Marinette snorted. “Hashtag Men Are Trash.”

            Cat Noir snickered. “I guess so…” he shrugged. “Zeus really is trash, though. But that’s not where the story ends, fortunately.”

            “By all means, go on.”

            Cat Noir turned back to the sky, and Marinette did the same. “Kallisto spent years living in fear, running away from hunters, and in sorrow, because she missed her son terribly, before one day, Artemis was invited to attend a dinner party in Olympus held by Zeus’ wife, Hera.”

            “I’m not sure I like where this is going…” Marinette breathed, tensing with apprehension, but Cat Noir reassured her immediately, with a gentle pat on the arm.

            “Don’t worry,” he sighed, “this is the good part. So, Zeus gets drunk, and starts telling his brothers and sisters about his many love feats, to Hera’s uttered outrage, and begins speaking about his and Kallisto’s story– About how she resisted him at first, being all that dedicated to Artemis, and how he was only able to make her fall in love with him after taking his sister’s face and convincing her that this was what the goddess really wanted.”

            “Oh, my _God_ ,” Marinette whispered, snapping her head back at him, as he giggled. “No way! And… what next?”

            “Well, Artemis was pretty ashamed of herself and ran out of the room to try and fix her mistake the sooner possible. She galloped back to Earth on the back of her loyal deer, and found Kallisto just in time, right before she was killed by her own son, who thought he was only defending himself against a dangerous beast, while Kallisto was really trying, in vain, to let him know that she was his mother. The goddess panicked and turned Arcas into a bear cub.”

            Marinette pouted. “Really… when _I_ panic, I drop a fifty-year-old set of really expensive porcelain, but she just turns people into bears.”

            “Well, to be fair, Artemis’ a goddess,” he chuckled.

            The girl rolled her eyes before sticking his tongue out at him. “Yeah, she’s probably the type of person that would create an earthquake and then go ‘oops’… Well, let me tell you, if that’s all it takes to be a goddess, then, sign me in. My clumsiness will be at the origin of the world’s annihilation, I’m telling you.”

            At that, Cat Noir laughed out loud. “Come on, you’re not _that_ clumsy.”

            “Have you ever seen me… like _ever_? I can’t even breathe without causing a natural disaster… You can ask any one of my friends, they’ll all tell you the same. ‘That girl cannot walk without proper assistance’… Sometimes, my own body plots against me and takes what seems like hours, just to get out a proper sentence…”

            “How’d you get up here, then?” he asked genuinely, propping himself up on an elbow.

            “I had… some help,” she admitted, after a short silence.

            Cat Noir lifted one of his eyebrows. “Help? From whom?”

            “I told you it was a _secret_!” she sang, poking his nose, and getting him back on his back. She was smiling brightly, and Cat Noir was instantly stroke by the familiarity of her features– he was sure he had seen this smile before, on someone other than Marinette. “So? Is there where the story ends?” she nudged him.

            “Uh… right! Yeah! Um… so, Artemis turns Arcas into a bear cub and, by some sort of miracle, he and Kallisto are thus able to communicate.

            “Mother and son are finally reunited… They lived happily in the forest for many more years. When they died, Artemis used her powers to lift them off the ground and put them in the sky, so they won’t ever be forgotten.” He paused, and urged Marinette to take another look at the two constellations. “Ursa Major and Ursa Minor can be seen on both of Earth’s hemisphere, and during the entire year, and they stand among the other stars as a reminder of a mother’s love for her son,” he finally concluded, as nostalgia brought tears into his eyes. “Or, at least, that’s what my mom always used to say,” he added, his voice shaking a bit.

            Marinette’s heart melted in her chest, as she turned her head towards Cat Noir again. “It’s a wonderful story, Cat Noir,” she said, taking his gloved hand in hers and squeezing gently.

            He let her, and they didn’t speak for a while, just laid down, next to each other, hand in hand, staring at the sky.

            An hour could’ve passed by, because it was so easy to hang out with Marinette, and it was so easy to become her friend, and love her, and her sole presence just made everything better, and brighter, and Cat Noir couldn’t be more thankful for having stumbled upon her tonight.

            “When I was little,” Marinette decided to break the silence, “I was really scared of the dark.”

            He turned to look her way, and the moonlight shone on her face, making her even more beautiful than she was.

            “I had this night light that my father had installed right next to my bed,” she pursued, “it was very small and shaped like a tiny sun– I loved it, I couldn’t go to sleep without it.

            “One day, I remember it was during summer, I-I guess our house’s electrical circuit just overheated, making the light bulb explode in the middle of the night…” She paused, as she recalled the terrifying memory, and he interlaced their fingers together, a sign of encouragement.

            She shook her head, swiftly glanced at him from the corner of her eye, before carrying on, “I screamed my lungs out, holding on to my pillow until my parents came rushing into my room. Then, I just burst into tears, while trying to explain the situation.

            “I stopped crying, eventually, but each time they tried to leave the room, I would resume shouting again. It was then my father took me by the hand,” she shifted on her side to face Cat Noir completely, this time, “and looked at me straight in the eye to tell me, ‘Marinette, don’t be scared of the dark. Can’t you see that the whole city is there to protect you?’” she said in a lower voice, certainly to imitate her father’s tones.

            She let out a soft chuckle, and Cat Noir couldn’t help a grin.

            “I… didn’t believe him, of course, so he had to carry me through my trapdoor, and into my balcony, then gestured to all of Paris, shining, radiant, in the night. ‘You have all of Paris, the stars and the moon, who all swore to keep you safe, and make the night more bearable,’ he told me,” she confided in Cat Noir, lifting her free hand to brush some of his hair out of his eyes– the gesture was simple and innocent, but it sent the teenage boy’s heart skyrocketing out of the solar system. “The view was breathtaking–“ she added. “It was the first time I ever saw Paris at night.

            “I slept with my trapdoor open, that night, lulled by the whispers of the thousands of millions of stars my dad had just gifted me with– _Yes_ , there was _legitimately_ a period in my life where I thought that the stars and the moon were mine, and mine alone,” she added in a derisive manner. “You can laugh, now.”

            “I don’t want to laugh,” Cat Noir told her honestly, squeezing her hand. “I think it’s a really nice story. It’s good to see that you’re close with your father.”

            Marinette blushed. “Yeah, he’s awesome. Mom, too. They’re like the best…” A short pause. “W-why… Why don’t you look at the stars with your mom anymore?” she dared to ask, looking down, but her voice was so small, almost imperceptible, and, at the face Cat Noir made, she really thought he wasn’t going to answer.

            “My mom left us four years ago…” he shrugged. “It just feels weird doing it without her, I guess…”

            “I’m sorry…”

            He shook his head. “You didn’t know.”

            “I hope you’re not blaming yourself.”

            Suddenly, he was reminded of the same words Marinette had spoken to Adrien a couple years ago. “I try not to,” he responded truthfully.

            “Well, try harder. Because, whatever it is that drove her away, it sure as Hell ain’t you,” she said calmly, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb in a comforting manner.

            “Thanks, Marinette. I appreciate it.” He truly did– Marinette was a good listener, and great at giving advice. She and Ladybug were maybe the only people on Earth that could tell him anything, and he would never be able to take it the wrong way.

            Another silence elapsed– Cat Noir felt comfortable enough in Marinette’s company not to be too concerned with it– before he asked her what time was it.

            “Almost one o’clock,” she replied, yawning, after glancing at her watch.

            “How are you going back home?” he wondered.

            She shrugged. “I don’t know… walking?”

            “I’m not gonna let you walk alone at night in the city, are you crazy?” he scolded her, immediately getting up to his feet, then helping her do the same. “Come on, hop on!” he exclaimed, gesturing to his back. “We’ll be there in no time!”

            “You don’t need to do that…”

            “Of course, I do. What kind of asshole would I be if I let you walk home this late? Besides, it’s no bother.”

            Marinette hesitated for another minute, then threw her hands in the air. “What the Hell?” she giggled, before wrapping her arms around his shoulders and jumping on the superhero’s back. “132 Rue de Rennes,” she said to his ear.

            “Hang on tight!” he advised her, as he unhooked his pole from his belt and dove off Notre-Dame’s rooftop, straight into the void.

 

***

 

Cat Noir’s arms were strong around Marinette’s thighs and the latter felt safe, almost comfortable, with the way her body was pressing against his, her chin on his shoulder and her hands on his chest.

            He was racing and jumping across rooftops, yet his heartbeat remained steady, unshaken under her palms. His gaze was focused and he was looking straight ahead– Marinette caught herself staring more than once.

            Cat Noir was handsome, she didn’t mind admitting. Even when half of his face was hidden behind his mask, she could still discern the sharp edges of his jaw and the delicate features of his cheekbones.

            They had to go through a window because her trapdoor was locked and she didn’t want to confront her mom if the latter had decided to get up for a midnight snack only to find her just getting home and begin lecturing her on exceeding curfew hour. He obliged with a nod and snuck her into her room without making a sound.

            Cat Noir has already been in Marinette’s bedroom before– He remembered having fought Troublemaker in here. He’s also been here as Adrien a couple times, a few years ago. Though, in his memories, the room was pinker, with pink walls and furniture, and posters of him everywhere.

            Now, the walls were purple, her dresser was bigger and her new desk was made of glass. She had the white carpeting removed and the darker shade of the floor matched the décor perfectly. Paintings and some pictures of her and her friends replaced the ones she used to cut out of magazines and plaster all over the place.

            He shook his head before letting her down on the ground and took a last quick look around before waving her off and turning towards the open window.

            She caught his tail before he could fly off. He spun on his heels to face her, lifting an eyebrow at her, and she instantly let go of him, blushing softly.

            “I– Sorry,” she apologized. He was quick to reassure her, whipping the air with his belt, as if to show her that there was no harm done. “I just… I want to do something for you… T-to thank you!”

            Cat Noir’s smile was bright. “You don’t need to… I was happy to do it…”

            Marinette joined her hands behind her back, tilting her head to the side and smiled shyly, avoiding his eyes, as she tried to act as sheepish and coy as possible. “Would a single cup of hot cocoa really kill you?” she asked in a low voice. “The best of Paris!” she exclaimed in a whisper, glancing back at him, but he looked a little nervous, biting on his lip. “I insist.”

            He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “I-I guess one couldn’t hurt,” he finally accepted, and her smile widened, making her whole face shine– he gulped at the sight.

            “Be right back!” she almost singed, before jumping through her trapdoor.

            _Okay, Marinette. Pull your fucking self together_ , she mentally scolded herself, as her hands trembled around the cups. _You can do it! It’s just Cat Noir. You’ve known him for years. Besides, he’s already in love with you– even if he doesn’t know it_. She poured some milk in a casserole and tried not to burn herself while turning the stove on. She then added four big spoonfuls of her father’s special Swiss chocolate powder and began to stir it. _It’s just Cat Noir_ , she repeated to herself, as she poured the hot beverage into two cups and began walking back to her bedroom. _Just Cat Noir_.

            “ _Et voila_!” she exclaimed, as she appeared on the top of the stairs leading to her trapdoor, only to find him looking at some photographs of her and her friends– she couldn’t help down a smile– a little part of her was expecting to find the room empty as she returned.

            “Is that you?” he asked, gesturing to a couple of pictures Nathaniel had taken of her, earlier this year, for a fashion project she was working on. She chose Chloe and Alya as her models, and they both rocked the 40s and 20s themes respectively. They then were able to convince her to participate in the photo shoot as well, and she was wearing the signature flowery patterns and round sunglasses of the 70s quite well.

            “Yeah,” she sighed, as memories of that day came flooding her mind. She handed him his hot chocolate. She had taken her coat, hat, and shoes off, and was wearing an oversized black Guns N’ Roses t-shirt over a long-sleeved white shirt, with ripped washed-out boyfriend jeans and a red flannel around her waist. She seemed comfortable enough in her attire for Cat Noir to instantly love this look on her. “What do you think?”

            “I think you look really pretty.”

            She shrugged off the compliment almost instinctively. “Juleka did my hair and make-up.”

            “Regardless,” he insisted. “Vintage looks really good on you. And you should let your hair down more often,” he said, taking a sip of his chocolate.

            She blushed but didn’t say anything.

            “Where did you get that picture?” he then asked, pointing at a selfie of her and Adrien.

            “I took it,” she chuckled. “It was Adrien’s first time at Paris Plage. The poor child didn’t know how we could still enjoy the sun and the sand without leaving the capital. It’s just a shame the Seine is too dirty for us to swim in it.” Cat Noir smiled at the memory– He still recalled having felt rather confused when his friends showed up at his doorstep with their swimsuits on, ready to go to the beach.

            He drank another mouthful of chocolate. “It’s really good,” he complimented her.

            She smiled widely. “I told you it was the best!”

            He laughed, as she finally tasted her drink. She had poured some whipped cream and let a few marshmallows sink in it, to sweeten the beverage even more, and, by the way Cat Noir was drinking his cocoa, he really liked it. “What about this one?” he asked, gesturing to another picture of her and Adrien, that Alya had taken this time.

            They were sitting on a bench in the Luxembourg gardens and he had his arm around her.

            “He’s on a lot of pictures with you. Is he like your boyfriend or something?” he teased her, and didn’t miss the furious blush that invaded her face– he found it interesting.

            “My b-boyfriend?” she tried not to choke on her words. “No way!” she blurted out, and she was suddenly hot, and her clothes felt too restricting, and she needed to calm down and breathe a little.

            Cat Noir wasn’t sure why he was disappointed. “Would it be so bad? I mean… you don’t really seem to dislike him…”

            “OMG! I don’t dislike him! He’s one of my best friends and I’m in love with him! I MEAN–“ she coughed out, “I would love to be his… No! Wait! Besides, it’s not like he wants to– Ha! I _meant_ to say that I would love him to be my lover– I MEANT _b-brother_ – Adrien’s like a brother to me, and I love him– Oh my _God_ , _stop_ talking,” she grumbled to herself, slapping a hand on her forehead. She folded her arms together, before glancing back at Cat Noir, still completely confused by her outburst. “You know what? I don’t know _you_. You don’t get to know how I feel about Adrien. It’s _private_ ,” she pouted.

            She didn’t really expect him to laugh out loud. “Fair enough,” he shrugged.

            “Great,” she sighed heavily. “I just made a fool of myself, didn’t I?”

            He smirked. “No. In fact, I thought it was rather funny.”

            She rolled her eyes at him. “Gee, Cat Noir thinks I’m a goofy dork. Just my luck.”

            “What’s wrong with funny? I think it’s a pretty good attribute.”

            “It’s not exactly the kind of compliment a girl is fishing for,” she told him.

            This time, it was Cat Noir’s turn to blush, and whoever said that red wasn’t his color couldn’t be more wrong. “Uh… then… uh, what– What do y-you want me to say?”

            She shrugged, looked around innocently, then back to him, and she was suddenly so _stunning_ in the dim lights of her room, he had to remind himself to breathe. “Like, for example, I spent lots of time picking out this outfit. I’d like some insight on it.”

            Adrien knew that Marinette wanted to become a fashion designer– He also knew that she was applying for the Berlin University of Arts, where his father had studied a couple dozen years ago. She loved picking out outfits for her friends and was always in charge of wardrobe duty when their school threw an-end-of-school play for the parents– so, he didn’t really read much into it; talking about clothes was just something she did with everyone. “I think it’s pretty. It’s rock and edgy, yet still very colorful with all those thread bracelets you got on your wrists. Plus, the bleached jeans give it a little retro side. The flannel around the waist was a nice touch, too. How very Axl Rose of you,” he added with a wink– Adrien knew she liked _Guns N’ Roses_ ’ music.

            Marinette’s eyes rounded in surprise– She wasn’t expecting Cat Noir to know much on the subject, but she quickly snapped out of it. “I think the fishnet stockings are a little too much.”

            “Well, I think you’d look beautiful in anything, anyway, so…” he blurted out, before realizing what he was saying, and Marinette’s heart stopped abruptly. He tried to apologize immediately, but she brushed it off with a shrug and a head shake, as her lips shyly curled into a tiny smile.

            “Thank you,” she said. “I-I think… you’re pretty handsome, too.”

            His leather ears flattened across his head and he looked down. He took a sip of his cocoa to drown a couple of screaming voices, and they didn’t speak for a while, just stood there, awkwardly, trying to avoid each other’s gaze, and drinking their chocolate. Eventually, both their cups emptied up, and they had to dispose of them.

            “So…” he sighed, his hands on his hips, as he turned towards the open window. “I’ll uh– T-thank you, first of all, for the uh… chocolate, and uh… I should probably– Yeah… S-see you around?”

            “Can I just try something before you leave?” she asked him, and the question was so unexpected, he wasn’t sure about how he should react. So, he nodded. “Close your eyes.” He did.

            He heard her shift towards him, then felt her hands on his shoulders, slowly creeping up his neck to cup his cheeks. He didn’t know he was holding his breath until he felt her mouth on his.

            Adrien has read all kind of books and has watched every Drew Barrymore movies there were with Chloe. First kisses were a big deal– for everyone.

            So, obviously, when Marinette kissed him, Cat Noir was expecting fireworks, and storms, and earthquakes, all kinds of crazy emotions just spiraling all through his body, setting his skin on fire, a tsunami of thoughts, short-circuiting every last one of his nerves.

            But there was none of that, and all he could think about was lips, and saliva, and teeth and tongue, and humidity. He hoped he was doing a good job– probably not, because this was legitimately the first time he ever kissed a girl in his life.

            Also, his heart beat way too fast, making his hands shake, and complicating the whole thing even more for him. But the insides of Marinette’s cheeks were warm and incredible, and he wanted to stay in there forever– he tried to breathe through his nose, so that he won’t have to let go of her, but found it rather difficult.

            He bit her lip accidentally and she moaned inside his mouth, making him shiver.

            When she let go of him, her lips were red and swollen and her eyes were a darker shade of blue. She was panting a little bit, and all he wanted to do was to touch her, feel her again.

            She took her Guns N’ Roses shirt off, yanking it over a chair, and pulled him down for another kiss– the white top she was wearing underneath showed much more cleavage, nicely complimenting her figure.

            There was more tongue, this time, more hair grabbing, and she ultimately dragged him towards her desk, hopping on the table, and drawing him between her legs.

            Kissing Cat Noir was odd.

            It was clumsy and a little awkward, it didn’t exactly feel wrong, but it wasn’t really perfect. There were no sparks, no butterflies, just excitement, and passion, and a little bit of guilt. The instant their lips touched was the decisive moment that she lost all form of control over her body– it was his now, and he could with it whatever he pleases.

            His mouth drifted on her jaw, and her neck, but his pecks were brief and soft and didn’t contempt her. His hands gripped on her middle, not even trying to explore her, while her palms were all over his arms and his chest.

            “Are you afraid to touch me?” she asked him, and his head jerked up immediately.

            “W-what? N-no, I–“

            She cut him off, seizing the hem of her shirt, and, a second later, Cat Noir staring at Marinette Dupain-Cheng in a lacy white bra.

            She tilted her head on one side, smiling widely while biting on her lip, looking the most provocative version of herself, and boldly ran her fingers along her sides. She glanced up at him through her messy black hair and she looked simply gorgeous, the perfect combination of atrociously sensual and purely innocent. “Touch me,” she instructed him.

            He didn’t move, still completely dazed by her... her entire _being_ … and she clicked her tongue in an annoyed manner, before hooking her thumbs at her back and unhooking her bra.

            It fell over smoothly, and Cat Noir’s whole body crashed.

            His muscles screamed and his bones crumbled, and he was dead now, and Marinette was so close, and her upper body was so naked, and her breasts were so beautiful, and her skin was white and smooth… he wasn’t breathing. He _needed_ to breathe. He couldn’t– With just a couple of words and a very simple gesture, Marinette had managed to suck all the air out of his lungs, piercing two bloody holes in his chest cavity.

            Her fist grasped his collar bell and tugged on the zipper, exposing some of his flesh.

            He didn’t know how it happened, how her hands got inside his suit, stroking his chest and stomach, or how his found themselves on her breasts– she probably guided them there. He blushed so hard, his cheeks shone in the dark.

            Then, they were kissing again, and his hands were still working on her body.

            She tugged on the zipper a little more, letting her fingers wander a little lower, and he stilled altogether when they finally closed on the thing she was secretly craving for. He instantly let go of her and backed off.

            “What’s wrong?” she asked, and her facial expression was somewhere between disappointment and fright. “What did I do?”

            He shook his head. “N-nothing– N-nothing, you’re… you’re uh… perfect… I just… I can’t– I don’t want it to look like I’m taking advantage of you or anything.”

            She snorted. “Are you kidding? If anything, I’m taking advantage of _you_.” He didn’t answer and looked down. “I want you to take advantage of me, isn’t it obvious?” Still no answer. “What is it?” she insisted again. “Is it because of Ladybug?”

            That seemed to get a reaction out of him. “What! No! Of course not! I-!”

            “Then what is it?”

            “I… I just think this is all moving way too fast…”

            Marinette took a deep breath and nodded, quickly reaching for her shirt next to her to pass it over her head– this wasn’t exactly the kind of conversation one had with the twins out. He seized the occasion to zipper up his suit. “Uh… Okay…” she said, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Y-you… were saying?”

            “I don’t wanna screw up whatever _this_ is,” he told her, gesturing to the air between them.

            She glanced away. “I wasn’t aware that there even _was_ something,” she admitted, a little ashamed of herself.

            “Oh…” He sounded sad. She couldn’t look at him, so she closed her eyes. “Then… why did you kiss me?”

            She shook her head. “Because you said I was beautiful…”

            “I meant it.”

            “I know.”

            “I kissed you because I like you.” She finally looked at him– he seemed calm and poised, but she knew him enough to know that he was really trying not to break down.

            “What about Ladybug?” she asked. He shrugged, her gaze dropped. “Then why did you stop? Kissing me, I mean.”

            “Because I want you to like me too.”

            She didn’t say anything for a while– and Cat Noir thought she was going to reject him, but then she said, “I think I already like you too,” and he sighed in relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Bad Reputation, Joan Jett](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LvoV2Lfk7Qg)


	4. Teenage Dirtbag

“The word ‘gluttony’ derives from the Latin _gluttire_ , meaning to gulp down or swallow, is the overindulgence and overconsumption of anything to the point of waste” ( _Oxford Pocket English Dictionary_ , 2014).

 

***

 

When Marinette’s alarm went off on Monday morning, she seriously contemplated the idea of playing hooky and stay in bed all day long. I mean, beds were truly wonderful creations– they kept you warm, safe and comfortable, and were the perfect shields against the outside world’s insanities.

            “Come on, Marinette, you’re going to be late!” Tikki piped happily, as she messed with her owner’s covers and proceeded to jump on her pillows to wake her up, enjoying the latter’s visible crappy mood way too much to Marinette’s liking.

            “Leave me alone! I-I don’t want to go!” Marinette groaned, pulling the sheets up over her head. “I’m sick.”

            Tikki stopped hopping for a second, suddenly concerned with the possibility. “Are you really sick?” she wondered in a small voice, as she leaned over to where Marinette’s head was supposed to be.

            The girl forced out a little cough that sounded very suspicious and said, “Yeah, my throat hurts and I think I have a fever. I may be contagious, too. Probably better for everyone if I stayed at home.”

            “You’re not sick!” her kwami accused her, resuming her jumping. “Come on, Marinette! You know you only get a limited amount of cumulated absences before the honors roll is off your reach!”

            “So, what?” Marinette mumbled, curling herself up under the covers.

            “So, you won’t get into the Berlin University of Arts, if you’re not on the honors roll, might I remind you?” Tikki clicked her tongue. “You better save the days you get off and only skip school when you’re really feeling sick,” she advised her owner.

            “Ugh… Why are you doing this to me?” the latter whined.

            “Because I love you, and I want you to succeed,” Tikki replied as if it couldn’t be more obvious.

            “Yeah… Well, I’m not saying it back,” Marinette warned her, as she got out of bed. “You just crushed my hopes and dreams.”

            “More like I saved them,” Tikki grumbled, flying over to Marinette’s desk to help her pack her things before she was joined by her owner.

            “Oh, fuck,” Marinette swore under her breath, as her eyes finally noticed the two empty cups of hot chocolate that still sat on the table. “I thought it was a dream.”

            “Nope,” Tikki said, not even trying to reassure her.

            “I _did_ really make out with him, last night.”

            “That poor bastard…,” Tikki sighed. “If only he knew…”

            Marinette scowled at her kwami. “Yeah, you don’t need to make me feel even worse about it…”

            Tikki returned her pout. “Oh, but I do. As your self-designated conscience, I get to make you feel bad about every single poor decision you ever took. Do not strip me of my rights.”

            “Why didn’t you stop me from doing it?”

            “Hey, I tried!” Tikki shot back. “I am only a kwami, Marinette. We cannot intervene with our owner’s personal actions. You are entitled to your own choices and decisions, you know. The blame’s on _you_. Besides, you two sure as Hell didn’t look like you wanted anyone to stop you, yesterday,” she added, smirking.

            Marinette blushed furiously at that and glanced away. “Whatever.”

            “OMG you _like_ him!” Tikki exclaimed in enthusiasm.

            “I _don’t_ – I don’t _like_ him. I mean, not how you think. Don’t be ridiculous,” Marinette muttered, folding her arms over her stomach and turning her back at her kwami. “He’s my partner and one of my best friends– of course, I like him. But not like _this_ … Not how I like Adrien, at least…”

            Tikki slapped a paw across her face. “So, sweet, romantic and cute aren’t things you’re looking for in a guy?” she teased her owner.

            “That’s not even the point!” Marinette spun on her heels to look at her kwami. “Why are you trying to play matchmakers, all of a sudden? I thought you disapproved of me dating Cat Noir?”

            The little goddess shrugged. “I bet he’s a good kisser, too.”

            The girl’s face turned red and she stuck her tongue out at her friend, who immediately returned the gesture, and they both proceeded, despite themselves, to enter a contest of the ugliest grimace, continuously sneering at each other, tugging on their cheeks, rolling their eyes to the back of their heads, creasing their noses, and making all kinds of disturbing noises, before Marinette’s ringtone echoed between the bedroom’s walls, cutting short to their shenanigans.

            “Who is it?” Tikki asked, flying over to take a peek from above Marinette’s shoulder.

            “It’s… Luka? What the hell? What does he even want at this hour?”

            “Well, answer it, I’m sure he’ll tell you,” Tikki stated the obvious.

            Marinette rolled her eyes at her before accepting the call. “Hey, Luka, what’s up?”

            “ _Oh, good, you’re up! I was afraid I was gonna wake you…_ ”

            “You sure were taking a big risk, then, calling me at this hour…” she chuckled, as she returned to her desk and continued to pack her bag.

            Luka giggled in the handset. “ _What can I say? I like living dangerously. Hey, listen, I have a surprise for you– I’m on my way to the bakery. How much time do you need to get ready?_ ”

            “Are you serious?”

            “ _Yeah_.”

            “Luka, do you even know what time it is?”

            “ _I know that we have to be at school in fifteen minutes_.”

            “ _What_?!”

            “ _Come on, hurry up. I’ll be waiting for you_ ,” he said, before hanging up.

            Marinette didn’t exactly know when did her brain crashed, but she knew that, at some point, her thoughts began to panic, rambling upon themselves inside of her head, and directing confusing orders to her body, that tripped more than once on its way to the bathroom.

            Marinette must have had beaten the record of the quickest shower ever taken, because, only three minutes later, she was back in her room with nothing but a towel on, soaking wet. She picked out her clothes without even looking, before throwing on her coat, gloves and beanie on, and seizing her backpack on her desk, urging Tikki to hurry into her purse.

            She ran down the stairs, pacing into her parents’ empty apartment– they were already down at the bakery, wasted a couple of minutes to look for her keys, before she passed through the main doors.

            “Hey, Mom!” she greeted Sabine, who was busy with the cash desk, as she stumbled inside the bakery, skillfully grabbing two hot croissants on a platter her father was bringing in. “’Morning, Dad!” she exclaimed, lifting herself up on her toes to kiss his cheek, before shoving a giant bite of croissant into her mouth, while she wrapped the other one in a paper bag and slid it in her school bag for later, and sprinting towards the glass doors.

            “Bye, sweetie! Have a nice day!” her parents called after her, Sabine, cupping her hands around her mouth for better effect, while Tom nicely arranged the croissants behind the counter before returning to the kitchens.

            Luka had told her that he would be waiting for her in front of her parents’ bakery but, once she was outside, he was nowhere to be seen. She took a couple of steps towards the pedestrian crossing but tripped on her own feet and fell across the sidewalk, her chin, colliding with the concrete in one swift, graceless movement. She let out a deep sigh as she struggled back to a standing position, kindly helped out by a passer-by who caught her by the arms to pull her up and gathered her things for her.

            “Thanks,” she whispered, but she doubted he’d heard her through the giant helmet that was conveniently hiding his face.

            He was wearing black leather from head to toes. “Are you sure you’re okay? That looked like a nasty fall,” he said, instinctively reaching for her chin to inspect any sign of damage.

            She shooed his hand off almost immediately. “Don’t worry about it,” she tried to sound polite. “This happens to me way more often that I’d like to admit.”

            He giggled at her lame attempt. “Some would say that you’d need proper assistance to walk properly,” he added, joking.

            Marinette frowned at him. “I’m sorry, but making fun of my clumsiness is solely reserved to my friends.”

            “Don’t you consider me as a friend, then, dove? You wound me,” said the boy, and Marinette’s eyes rounded in surprise.

            _Cat Noir?_ she almost blurted out, but bit on the inside of her cheeks to keep quiet– She couldn’t out him like this, in public, no less, where anyone could hear them, after all. He was in his civilian attire, _qui plus est_ – her eyes instantly searched for his ring, but he was wearing thick leather gloves that covered every inch of his hands.

            It was then that the realization hit her, and her heart began racing inside her ribcage.

            Fucking Cat Noir was facing her, in his civilian form, and Luka was on his way here and could arrive at any second now– What if he removes his helmet to greet him and she sees his face? She would know her partner’s identity– and he still wouldn’t know hers because, well, he didn’t know she was Ladybug.

            Shit again– Cat Noir liked her and was clear, last night, that he wanted something more from her, so revealing himself to her was totally something he could do– he never really was too keen on the idea of keeping their identities a secret, anyway, so it would make sense he would want to tell Marinette his real name, and show her his real face. Oh, this would be terrible. A disaster– No, yet better, a _cat_ -astrophy. Oh, she had messed up bad, real, real bad, this time.

            Was she breathing? Okay, she needed a minute. She was in desperate need of a fucking minute– Cat Noir wouldn’t do that to her now, would he? Not like this, not right now! Not in public, like it was nothing– The guy had at least some levels of integrity, didn’t he?

            “Marinette? Are you okay? You look very pale,” he remarked and his voice, suddenly, sounded so familiar, but she just couldn’t seem able to put her finger on it.

            “I– y-yeah… I’m f-fine.”

            He knew her name, he knew who she was– Well, of course, he did– He probably knew more about her than the average person, after last night.

            “Maybe you need to sit down a bit– You might’ve hit your head or something,” he advised her, carefully guiding her towards a nearby bench after he proposed her to carry her things.

            She had to tell him she was waiting for someone, so he wouldn’t be taken by surprise if Luka ever decided to show up. She had to speak, now. “I’m uh… waiting for someone,” she said, staring right at the pavement.

            Cat Noir giggled again, before he lifted up his helmet visor. “I know,” he said, “I’m here,” and, at that, Marinette’s head snapped right back at him, numerous different emotions floating in her eyes, but she didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed, maybe even a little frustrated, to find Luka where Cat Noir should’ve been.

            “Luka? What’s up with what you’re wearing?” she teased him, chuckling, to hide her discontent.

            “Surprise!” he let out chirpily, before stepping aside and gesturing to his new bike, parked right next to the bus stop.

            Marinette’s mouth fell open, and she was immediately on her feet after that, walking over to the motorcycle, mesmerized by the engine, Luka, at her heels. “You, motherfucking– Since when do you own a 2017 Kawasaki Vulcan S 650?” she wondered out loud, brushing a trembling hand over the handlebar.

            “Early birthday present,” he shrugged,

            “I thought you said your mother only ever got you USBs on your birthday…” Marinette replied, not yet able to take her eyes off of this jewelry masterpiece.

            “Yeah, but that’s a gift from my grandpa,” he said. “He bought it for himself at the beginning of last year, even though he knew he couldn’t really ride it anymore– it took a lot of convincing on my Nana’s part but, after a whole afternoon of me, Juleka, our mom and Nana nagging, he finally conceded and agreed to give it to me.”

            Marinette straightened up to look at him, lifting up on of her eyebrows. “Hmm, sneaky,” she complimented, smirking. “’Can’t wait ‘till _my_ grandma comes to her senses and does the same.”

            He laughed. “So? What do you think?”

            She clicked her tongue. “I think that if you came all the way here to brag and make me jealous, then it’s totally working.”

            He winked at her. “How about a ride to school?”

            “Are you kidding me? In what Hell would I say ‘no’?” Marinette almost cried out, as she hopped on the bike, striking a pose, and waiting for Luka to hand her his spare helmet.

            “Ready?” he asked, taking place in front of her, before turning the engine on.

            His heart skipped a beat as she wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed herself against him. “You betcha!”

 

***

 

There were many ways to describe Adrien Agreste.

            Adrien Agreste was a nice boy, very polite, raised to be extremely respectful towards others. He never caused any trouble and always did as he was told. He was quiet, talked in a calm voice, never swore, and maintained a good posture at all times.

            He ate all his food and didn’t stay up late. He smiled to everyone, gave back his homework on time, and worked hard to get the best grades– he was constantly competing for those with Max and Marinette, by the way, and even though he bested them in physics and chemistry, Max surpassed his rivals in Math and economics, and Marinette beat both their sorry asses in Arts, philosophy, and biology.

            Adrien Agreste modeled his father’s designs during his free time, practiced the noble art of fencing on weekends, and spoke Chinese fluently.

            He never threw a tantrum, always kept his emotions in check– when he laughed, it was never this kind of lively, uncontrollable laugh that was so contagious everyone around him began to laugh as well. Adrien laughed quietly, as if doing otherwise in public was ought to be shameful. He never cried either and, when he was angry at someone, he never showed it specifically– he didn’t act different, he wasn’t distant nor cold– he just stated his sentiments to the person concerned and patiently waited for them to apologize. He never spoke behind one’s back, never started any rumor, never gossiped, and was overall the embodiment of the perfect little son, but, when Marinette Dupain-Cheng showed up to school this very Monday morning, on the back Luka’s motorcycle, Adrien Agreste straight up lost his shit.

            “You okay, dude?” Nino asked him, gently laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

            “Huh? Yeah, yeah…” Adrien shook his head, and forced his hands to unclench his fists. “Uh… since when do Luka and Marinette come to school together? And why does he have a motorcycle, now?”

            “Well, the girl is always Hella late– he probably took pity on her,” Nino joked, and Alya, who was standing beside them at the top of the stairs, smacked the back of his neck.

            “You don’t know what you’re saying,” she clicked her tongue in annoyance. “These two have been playing cat and mouse with their feelings ever since last year.”

            “What? Seriously?” Adrien didn’t try to hide the panic in his voice.

            Alya shrugged, shoving her hands down her jean pockets. “Have you been living under a rock? It’s basically common knowledge at this point that Luka is like hopelessly in love with Marinette– or are you just as clueless as she is?”

            “Hopelessly in love?” Adrien squeaked. “When did _that_ happen?”

            “Have you met Marinette? Is that so hard to believe?” Alya mocked her boyfriend’s best friend.

            “W-what… n-no! Of course, not! Uh… I…”

            “Relax,” she teased him, “I’m just messing with you. All the girls think they’re the perfect match, but that’s because they’re tired of waiting for the other guy to come around. _I_ haven’t lost hope, yet, and I certainly do not want _that_ ,” she said, gesturing to Luka and Marinette, “to happen.”

            “There’s another guy?” Adrien was curious all of a sudden. “Who is he?” he asked. Was it Kim? Max? Could it be Ivan? Was he someone he knew? Could it be Jagged Stone? Marinette could totally have Jagged Stone if she wanted to.

            “I can’t tell you that,” Alya smirked at him.

            “Why not?”

            “’Cause it’s not my secret to share,” she giggled.

            Adrien wanted to say something else, but he quickly realized he was out of arguments. He nodded at his best friend’s girlfriend, grabbed his bag from the ground, and began walking down the stairs.

            “Dude, where are you going?” Nino cried after him. “Class is about to start soon, you know.”

            “I know,” Adrien assured him. “I’ll be as quick as possible. Don’t wait up,” he told them, as he headed toward where Luka had parked his bike– He and Marinette were still taking their helmets off, and Adrien just hated the way she laughed, smiled, and tucked her hair behind her ears in the other boy’s company. Was that… Was she _blushing_? No– he needed to end this right this second.

            “I’m torn,” Alya admitted to her boyfriend. “I really don’t want to be late to Mendeleiev’s class, because, you know, she’s a witch and I hate her, but I _so_ do not want to miss this. History is about to be _made_!”

            “I could stay and fill you in, if you want. I have Math with Purpleplum. He doesn’t care much for tardiness,” Nino proposed her.

            “Nino, no, you’re terrible at telling stories,” Alya replied, not taking her eyes off of Adrien. “You always leave out the most important details.”

            “What’s going on?” Chloe asked, as she walked up the stairs, her hands in Nathaniel’s.

            Alya didn’t say anything, instead, pointed her to what seemed like a very jealous Adrien walking towards a horrendous image of Marinette and Luka flirting. Chloe smirked and the sight and shifted to stand right beside Alya, to take a better look at the scene.

            “Are you two being serious? Shouldn’t we have the decency to leave them some privacy, at least?” Nathaniel scowled at them.

            Chloe turned to face him, smiling that damned smile of hers that he just couldn’t resist, and lifted a hand up to cup his cheek. “I seriously see where you’re coming from and all, and, truly, babe, I think you cannot be more right, but I’m not missing this for the world.”

            “I hear ya girl,” Alya chuckled, presenting the mayor’s daughter with a fist bump.

            The two boys tried to say something after that but were rapidly shushed by the girls, and shut up just in time to see Adrien walk up to Luka holding Marinette’s hands to help her down the motorcycle.

            _Ugh. Why couldn’t_ he _get a bike too_?

            “Hey, Marinette,” he chirped innocently, forcing up a smile. “Hey, Luka, how are you?”

            “H-hey, A-Adrien,” Marinette pained to let out, waving shyly at him, and blushing red.

            “Hey, man, what’s up?” Luka greeted him, conveniently wrapping an arm around Marinette’s waist, but the latter was quick to shoo it off– Adrien didn’t miss it, and couldn’t help but smirk at it.

            He looked at her with a dead-serious look and tried his best to improvise, “I was hoping we could talk?”

            Marinette shot him a confused look, but agreed with a nod, and turned back to Luka to thank him again for the ride.

            “Anytime you’d like, dove,” he replied, emphasizing on the nickname he’d picked for her, maybe to scare off Adrien, but the latter wasn’t even remotely impressed– Luka didn’t have anything on him– He kissed her, last night, and even saw her topless. Luka was a joke next to him.

            “See you in Art?” she asked and he smiled and waved her off, as she followed Adrien to a quieter place.

            “Is everything okay?” she asked when they were alone.

            “Yeah,” he was quick to reassure her. “I just– I wanted to apologize… for what happened on Saturday? I’m still not sure what I did wrong, but you seemed pretty upset and I just wanted to make sure we were… okay.”

            Marinette couldn’t hold down a laugh. “Oh, my _God_ , no! You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise you that!” she immediately told him, only half-lying. “I was just really tense because of the Chloe and Alya thing, plus all sorts of… things were just adding up and… I should be sorry, really– I shouldn’t have lashed it out on you. I didn’t mean to,” she apologized in return, reaching for his forearm, and Adrien gulped as he realized he wasn’t quite used to Marinette’s touch, just yet.

            God, he just wanted to kiss her again. He just– I mean, he could. He just needed to lean in and kiss her. Kiss her like he dreamt of doing it all night. Suddenly, her lips were so pink and wet, and they were everything he could see, and he wanted to taste them– _No_. He couldn’t. He wasn’t wearing his suit– Marinette didn’t kiss Adrien Agreste last night, she kissed _Cat Noir_.

            “So!” he exclaimed, in an attempt to get ahold of his senses. “What do you have, right now?”

            When he looked back at her, she was blushing heavily. “Uh…” Was she looking at his lips, right now? Did she figure out what he was thinking about? He tried to ignore the thoughts and pushed them aside, to concentrate on her answer. “H-History.”

            “I could walk you?” he suggested. “It’s on my way.”

            She blushed even more, before nodding frenetically. “Uh… y-yeah, that would be g-great.”

            His smile widened and he addressed her his elbow that she caught nervously, hanging a shaking hand over it, before they both disappeared into the school, just in time for class.

 

***

 

 

The same evening, Cat Noir decided to pay Marinette a visit. He knew, of course, he couldn’t just turn up unexpected– his father has taught him well, knock, before you walk into an occupied room, and ask permission, before showing up at a friend’s house– but the Luka episode of the morning had left him particularly unnerved and insecure, and with a bitter taste in his mouth.

            When he knocked on her window, she was at her desk, working on something on her computer, but didn’t seem the tiniest bit surprised to see him.

            “You came!” she greeted him with a smile that made her eyes shine, as she opened her window wide and helped him inside.

            He hopped in with ease and hooked his pole on his belt, before turning around to face her. She had her hair down and changes to more comfortable clothes, but she still had her makeup on. “Hey,” he said, shyly looking away. “I’m sorry to drop by like this but I… I wanted to see you.” He blushed when his eyes caught on the cushions she had arranged next to her chaise with popcorn bowls and sodas.

            “I’m glad you did,” she said, taking him by the hand. “I was kinda hoping you’d come,” she admitted sheepishly, before guiding him to the little spot she had set up for them. She unplugged her laptop and took it before sitting next to Cat Noir on the cushions.

            “What were you working on?” he asked, gesturing to the computer screen.

            She shrugged. “I’m making a mix for a friend– his name’s Luka,” she said simply, quickly tapping something on her keyboard.

            She didn’t notice the way Cat Noir’s jaw twitched as she mentioned Luka’s name, or the way his leather ears went flat across his head. “Uh… who’s he?” he asked her, trying to sound casual, but jealousy tainted his every word.

            Her eyes still glued on her laptop. “He’s always making me mixes to listen to during the weekend, so, this time, I decided to make _him_ one– But the guy’s really serious about his music– It’s basically impossible for me to find something he doesn’t already know…” she grumbled under her breath, before closing the tab she was working on and shifting in her seat to face Cat Noir– he was frowning, his arms around his legs, and his tail was beating the floor furiously. “What is it?” she inquired, lifting an eyebrow at him, but she already knew what was wrong.

            He shook his head. “Nothing.”

            Her face softened. “You don’t need to worry about Luka,” she told him honestly. “He’s got nothing on you,” she assured him, but his pout was still very pronounced. She rolled her eyes at him in annoyance, before lifting herself up on her knees and reaching for something on the desk table above them. “Here,” she said, as she sat back next to him, scooting even closer to him, “for you,” she whispered, and he turned her way only to see her handing him a pink rose.

             She was blushing, looking away, and smiling softly, and suddenly he was sure he never saw her more beautiful than during this instant. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed immediately, as words refused to come up, shying away from Marinette, and took the flower from her, his cheeks, turning into a very intense shade of red, as he marveled at its shape and color– it was more orange actually– a mixture of orange and pink– a salmon-colored rose. “F-for m-me?” he finally managed to get out.

            Marinette chuckled delicately before leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Do you like it?”

            “If I l-like… A-are you kidding? I-” he almost shouted, and he wanted to keep talking, but his voice simple died out in his throat, and all he wanted to do was to grab Marinette’s cheeks and pull her towards him for a kiss– He could do it now, he was in costume– He could do it, so he did, and kissed her deeply.

            She laughed against his mouth as she kissed him back– He was always the one showering her in flowers and compliments– Now was her turn.

            “God, I love kissing you,” he breathed out the second he let go of her.

            “I love kissing you, too,” she giggled, pressing her forehead against his and diving into his minty eyes.

            A whole minute passed by, and they were still looking at each other. Then, the corners of her mouth curled up into a little smile, full of innuendos. “What?” he asked her. “What are you thinking about?”

            She shrugged. “I was just… I think that you have really pretty eyes,” she said quietly, reaching for his peach pink swollen lips with her fingertips. “And pretty lips. What were _you_ thinking about?”

            He glanced away, shook his head. “About how amazing you are.”

            When he looked back at her, she was blushing, looking down and frenetically chewing on her lower lip. He smiled and kissed it lightly before turning back to Marinette’s computer and urging her to enter her Netflix password in the designated area. They spent almost half an hour picking out a movie but, as they sat back to watch it, his arm gently wrapped around her shoulders, a voice in the back of Marinette’s head, one that strangely sounded like Tikki’s, wouldn’t quit nagging and fussing around, keeping her from concentrating on the movie’s storyline.

            Marinette should be ashamed of herself, it said. Cat Noir had been in love with her other half for years without being able to move on– why did she have to steal away, consume all the love that poor boy had to give to the world? And why did _he_ have to _waste_ it all on her?

            She took in a deep breath and placed her cheek against his torso– his heart was beating fast, and she realized suddenly that she could totally get used to the way he breathed, and the way he stroke her hair– the way he said her name. “You’re pretty awesome, too,” she whispered to the crook of his neck, leaving there a light kiss. Maybe this time, if he ever decided to tell her that he loved her again, she’ll be able to say it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Teenage Dirtbag, Wheatus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FC3y9llDXuM)


	5. Cherry Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! The chapter we were all waiting for! (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

“Lust, or lechery, comes from the Latin _luxuria,_ meaning carnal, is a feeling intense longing” ( _Oxford Pocket English Dictionary_ , 2014). The impurity of lust transforms one man into ‘a slave of the Devil’ (H. E. Manning).

 

***

 

Adrien was leaning against a wall in the school’s yard, his earphones plugged in, as he listened to a mix Marinette had specially confectioned for Cat Noir.           

            There were many _Guns ‘N Roses_ pieces, because Marinette simply adored their music, along with other French hits, like _Il pleut sur Bruxelles_ , and other songs by Dalida, Joe Dassin and Jacques Brel, Charles Aznavour, _Comme ils disent_ – songs he’d never thought he’d listen too, because of how old they were– and songs he didn’t even know existed like _Les Mots Bleus_ or _Voila_ , and _L’instinct Masculin_ – overall, songs he really enjoyed rediscovering.

            She didn’t dare to add any love songs to the mix, probably because their _liaison_ was barely a couple weeks old, and she didn’t want to come off too strong, but the mere fact that she spent time picking out songs and arranging them in that tiny USB she’d given him meant the whole world to him.

            Many students at _Dupont_ went back home for lunch during recess and Adrien usually had his chauffeur to come and get him, then bring him back before class, but today, when he saw that Marinette had chosen to stay in school, he canceled on the Gorilla and decided to stay as well– See, he really wanted to spend time with her, as himself, but the latter was almost always surrounded by people– lots of people– and he could never get her to be alone with him. So, when he saw that her friends have left for lunch without her, he decided that that was his moment– That was his cue to approach her and make her see him, the same way she saw Cat Noir– he didn’t know why, but something in him wanted her to like both sides of his personality…

            He just hadn’t gathered up the courage to walk over to her just yet.

            It wasn’t because he was afraid, or something– he was not, _obviously_ – He was just looking for something to say– something interesting that made him look clever and smart, but still friendly and approachable.

            He needed a nice way to start up a conversation–

            He could come up with a joke or two– he was pretty good at those. He would make her laugh and nothing was better to break the ice than a slick pun or a witty remark.

            Ugh, come _on_. Marinette was like one of his best friends– they’ve already hung out plenty before, talked about trivial, stupid stuff… why would anything be different now? All he needed to do was go over to her, say hi and smile, and _speak_ , while trying not to think about her lips, or her hands on his skin, or the smell of her hair… or the mere feeling of kissing and touching her… Right, he snorted, hitting the back of his head to the wall and sighing deeply. Will he ever be able to talk to her like a normal human being after everything they had shared the past couple of weeks?

            _Why was it that it was easier for freaking_ Cat Noir _to be around her, seriously_? Ha. Well, first of all, wearing the suit was to Adrien the equivalent of receiving a shot of superhero courage– in it, he felt like he could do anything. Without it, he just felt… naked.

            Second of all, Cat Noir was way more confident than Adrien was; Cat Noir walked around, fought his enemies, with a leather gear and cat ears on, yet still managed to do it in the most natural, suave, buoyant way possible– Adrien, who was a model, for God’s sake, the boy who had basically mastered the art of the catwalk, still felt a little out of place when he had to model some of his father’s most _avant-gardiste_ designs.

            Cat Noir fought akumas on a weekly basis. He was indestructible, fearless– Adrien couldn’t even come up with a couple of words to say to the girl he liked– No wonder she preferred his other half.

            Adrien’s thoughts came rushing back to the present when his best friend Nino appeared next to him out of nowhere and nudged him on the arm to make his presence known. Adrien glanced at him, unamused, but took out one of his earphones out of courtesy.

            “Why are you back so early?” he asked him, raising an eyebrow.

            “What do you mean, ‘early’?” Nino scratched the top of his cap. “Break’s almost over, you know. Class is about to start soon…”

            “What?” Adrien was suddenly stroke with panic and, as he turned away to face Marinette’s way, he witnessed with uttered dismay that Alya had already beat him to her. “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, as he grabbed his backpack from the ground and began to head towards the common room.

            “What’s wrong?” Nino hurried after him, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder.

            “Nothing, I’m just real stupid, sometimes. That all,” Adrien sighed.

            “Oh, just regular stuff, then.”

 

“Girl, check _this_ out!” Alya exclaimed, waving an official form in front of Marinette’s face, waiting for her to take her eyes out of her sketchbook.

            “What is it?” the latter asked, instinctively reaching for the paper.

            Alya let her take it. “It’s a confirmation ticket for entering the Press and Parliamentary Assembly held in honor of Ladybug and Cat Noir next month,” she answered.

            “Oh, cool,” Marinette didn’t even try to sound impressed, as she began to read the document.

            “Yeah, _so_ cool,” Alya replied, rolling her eyes at her best friend, before taking place next to her. “Too bad I would have to give it up to Chloe pain-in-the-ass Bourgeois by the end of the week…” she lamented, letting her head rest on her best friend’s shoulder.

            The latter didn’t even acknowledge her pain. “Yeah, too bad.”

            “Well, unless, of course, you start moving that fine little ass of yours and win this fucking bet…” Alya suggested innocently, keeping an eye on Marinette’s expression. The latter shrugged in response, her face, stolid, before giving her back her pass. Alya straightened up immediately. “Come on, girl!” she whined. “What are you doing to me? The bet has a time-limit, you know! It ends _this Friday_ , might I remind you? Have you guys even held hands yet?”

            Marinette frowned as her jaw flew open in pure shock. “Excuse _you_ – Do I look like the kind of girl who…” she retched, a hand to her heart, “ _hold hands_ with a boy she’s not even _engaged_ to? Jesus, I hope my grandma never hears you talking about such indecencies!” she mocked her best friend openly.

            Alya nudged her on the arm, before laughing out loud. She was quickly joined by Marinette. “Well, you’re not giving me anything to work with– Always keeping all kind of secrets I, as your BFF, am more than entitled to know, by the way! You’re even worse than Aria, Spencer, Emily, and Hannah _combine_! Oh my God, you’re like the Alison DiLaurentis of _Dupont_ ,” Alya noted with a pout, and Marinette only smirked. “Tell me at least if you guys kissed! Please?” she asked, joining both hands in front of her face.

            Marinette’s smile instantly faded away at that, piquing on her best friend’s concern. “We have,” she nodded quietly.

            “And… what? You didn’t like it?”

            Marinette shook her head. “It’s not it– It just… it feels wrong, you know?”

            “What, _exactly_ , are you implying?”

            _I think I’ve fallen in love with him_ , she almost blurted out, but stopped herself right on time. She couldn’t tell her that– I mean, she hasn’t even told _him_ yet and, even though Alya _was_ indeed her BFF and the closest thing she ever had to a sister, Marinette knew just how much she needed to keep at least this secret to herself.

            The little reporter was _obsessed_ with Paris’ superhero duo– if she came to learn that her best friend was thinking about engaging in a serious relationship with Cat Noir, Marinette will never hear the last of it. And if the latter was ever to become Cat Noir’s girlfriend, Alya was the best at emotional blackmail and would probably go to unrealistic extends to get some Intel on Ladybug– like going undercover, for instance, and spying on Marinette and Cat Noir on a date, i. e. the perfect recipe for disaster.

            No, no, nu-uh. If Marinette and Cat Noir were ever to take their relationship a step forward, Marinette had to keep it a secret from everyone– _including_ Alya.

            After all, what was another secret at this point, anyway? Right?

            “How am I even supposed to prove it?” she instead inquired.

            “ _That_ ’s what’s been bothering you, seriously?” Alya almost laughed at her. “Have you never heard of after-sex selfies?”

            “Pictures? Really? That easy?”

            “Why do you want to complicate it?”

            “What if I just talk some random blond guy into doing it and make him wear a costume? How would you know he’s not Cat Noir? You know how good I am with Photoshop,” Marinette countered.

            Alya scratched her chin thoughtfully. “Then just take a bunch of pictures. You can also get creative and screen record him moving his ears or using his Cataclysm on something. I don’t think something like that could easily be faked… Chloe won’t know what hit her! Oh, school bell’s ringing– we should probably get going. What do you have now?”

            “Ugh. Four hours of Lab,” Marinette complained, as she gathered up her stuff and got to her feet. “You?”

            “Advanced Math,” Alya said. “But, I’m serious Mar. _Friday_. I don’t want her to win.”

 

***

 

“I think you might be my favorite person in the whole world,” Cat Noir gently whispered into Marinette’s ear, as he wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer.

            She tilted her head up to look at him, her chin pressing against his chest, as a ten miles wide smile shimmered on her face. “Really?”

            He nodded. “I think so, yeah. I mean– My mom’s gone and my dad’s kinda neurotic, so my parents are thus disqualified. I’ve never really met any members of my family, either… Like, I know they exist, because they send us postcards every year on Christmas but…” he shrugged.

            She chuckled. “No friends?”

            He seemed to think about it for a second then replied, “you smell better than most of them.”

            She laughed and poked his nose with the tip of her index. “How about uh… Ladybug?” she almost hesitated to bring up Paris’ other superhero.

            “Well, she _is_ my partner and best friend, and it’s not really a secret that I’ve been in love with her for ages, but… I’ve told you things I’ve never even dreamed of sharing with her and, well, even hopeless romantics are ought to move on, don’t you think so?”

            “I guess so…” Marinette blushed, letting her gaze drop, before sinking back into Cat Noir’s embrace. His heart was beating steadily in his chest, and his arms felt warm around her waist– she could just fall asleep right now, and die, and spend the rest of eternity swimming in a pool of bliss, and love, and light. “Do you think you’ll ever love me the way you loved her?” she asked him in a low, shy voice, careful not to come off too clingy, doubtful, and insecure, as her fingers played with his collar bell.

            He took in a deep breath, but didn’t let go of her, which she was thankful for. “Do _you_ think you’ll ever love _me_?” he asked her, instead of answering.

            She was silent for an awfully long thirty seconds after that and could hear his nervousness and apprehension building up in his chest as she listened to the quickening of his heartbeat. “Yeah,” she said honestly, and he sighed in relief.

            “I think Ladybug’s got nothing on you and… I think that I might, one day, love you even more than I ever loved her,” he confessed earnestly, making her brain freeze, and her whole body collapse.

            She lifted herself up on her elbows and looked down at him with eyes full of stars, and a smile that singed _I love you_ , but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words just yet, so, she just leaned in to kiss his lips.

            They had been lying on top of each other on Marinette’s balcony chair lounge, the latter resting between his legs and wrapped in a warm wool blanket that kept her from shivering in the cold air of the night, as they talked quietly, careful not to wake up her parents sleeping downstairs, sharing hot drinks and food he had brought with him this time, before she decided to turn the coy romantic scene into a more passionate exchange.

            He returned her kiss with fervor, sliding his gloved hands up her back and into her hair, as she grinded against him, making him gasp inside her mouth. He kissed her, and, somewhere, a bridge broke down, mountains shattered, and the whole world fell apart– Marinette had been completely unprepared to feel this way about Cat Noir. One would’ve thought that, after all the hours she’d spent with him, as herself or Ladybug, watching him laugh, and talk, kissing him, even, she would know everything there was to know about his lips. But she hadn’t once imagined the destructive, annihilating powers they held. Kissing him was like kissing a live fire– she knew she’d get burn if she went too close, but the yellow and orange flames were simply mesmerizing and the darkness beguiled her.

            If eyes were the window to the soul, then lips were the gateway to the body, and Marinette wanted him, now, more than she has ever wanted anyone else before.

            “Are you still up, Marinette?” Sabine’s voice called out from her daughter’s room, making the two teenagers still instantly. “Come on, honey, lights out. It’s a school night!”

            “Okay, I’ll be right down!” Marinette assured her, loud enough to make sure her mom would hear her, and wouldn’t need to climb up her ladder to check on her.

            “I should probably go,” Cat Noir sighed, once they heard Sabine’s steps walking away.

            Marinette shook her head, harshly grasping on his jacket’s collar. “Stay with me, tonight,” she told him, perfectly knowing what she was implying.

            His cat-like pupils narrowed at her and he gulped audibly. “Uh… a-are you uh… s-sure?”

            “Please,” she nodded.

            He couldn’t but comply, as he followed her through her trapdoor and let her pull him down towards her, then on her bed.

            He had never been on her bed, before– It felt reinvigorating, like achieving a lifetime milestone.

            She kissed him again, her hands playing with his hair, and all he could think of was how beautiful she was, how hot her mouth was, as her tongue slid over his, and their breaths mingled.

            “I-I made a bet,” she blurted out, unable to keep the words to herself, when his teeth began nibbling softly at her ear.

            “W-what?” he asked, still dazed by her touch and his fever, and he was sure he’d heard her wrong.

            “I made a bet,” she however repeated , finding God knows where the strength to push him away– just a little bit. “I never explicitly agreed to it, actually, but I still got in the middle of it, somehow.”

            “Marinette, love, you’re not making any sense, right now,” he remarked in the kindest way possible, and his voice was thick with passion and desire, and he gazed at her with dark eyes and creased eyelids, ready to devour her.

            She blushed at the nickname– Yes, she could totally get used to Cat Noir calling her ‘love.’ “My best friends,” she tried to explain again, “they love to challenge each other… and they were arguing the other day that I could get any man in Paris to do whatever I wanted.”

            He nodded, pressing his lips together. “I second that,” he said.

            “Well, Chloe didn’t think so…” she chuckled. “So, she wanted me to prove it.”

            “Okay…?”

            “Alya sealed the deal before I could talk my way out of it, and then– Everyone was talking about how I was nothing compared to Ladybug, and that I could never get you because you were in love with her and there was no way in Hell you’d settle for someone like me… And then, there was Adrien… and he was so convinced I could do anything, even though he didn’t know what the bet was about, and then _he_ too had a crush on Ladybug and I… I just– I wanted to prove to the world that I was as good as she was, and uh…” she babbled, not making any sense, and Cat Noir just watched her talk, rambling on her own words, and getting mixed up in her own story.

            “You’re jealous of Ladybug?” he asked her, a little amused.

            “I know I shouldn’t be,” her voice was so quiet suddenly, and her cheeks very red. “But I think I do uh… _envy_ her, in a way.”

            “What does the bet have to do with any of that?”

            “Uh… if I… um– If I get you to go down on me before the end of the week… I– I would’ve won.”

            He didn’t answer and his hands stilled around her waist.

            She let her head hang, mortified by the words that just came out of her mouth. At this point, she was seriously expecting him to leave, run, even, and never come back, or scream at her, insult her, humiliate her even more, break up whatever thing that was going on between them, abandoning her, heartbroken, and alone… but all he did was laugh out loud, before he grabbed her chin to make her look at him.

            “Is this really what girls do behind closed doors?” She let her eyes drop and bit on her lower lip, wondering how things would’ve turned out if she hadn’t told him– she would’ve probably died from guilt, drowned in her own tears, if she hadn’t been honest with him before anything really serious happened between them. “Hey, I- I didn’t say no,” he whispered softly, reaching for her cheek, as she looked up at him with big eyes and a knotted stomach.

            “You’d do it for me?”

            He smiled. “I will have you know, love, that the list of things I wouldn’t do for you is practically nonexistent, at this point,” he said, before he pushed her into the mattress, pulling her under him with ferocity, as their mouths crashed together.

 

“Are we really doing that?” Marinette wondered out loud, as Cat Noir’s teeth played with the buttons of her shirt, and his mouth left trails of wet kissed on every square inch of exposed skin.

            “Not if you don’t want to,” he replied, licking the space between her breasts, making her shiver. “We can stop anytime you want, you know,” he assured, lifting his head up to meet her eyes.

            “No, I want to,” she sighed, staring at the ceiling. “I’m just a little nervous, I think…”

            He shrugged. “I’m kinda nervous too. But like– the good kind of nervous.”

            She giggled and looked down at him. “Yeah, _definitely_ the good kind of nervous.”

            He smiled. “So? What do we do, now?”

            “Just keep on kissing me for now,” she said, dragging him up towards her mouth. He obliged immediately, and, as soon as the last syllable escaped her lips, she found herself interlocked in yet another kiss.

            The tender touch of Cat Noir, his sole presence, really, made the whole room turn to ash and disappear, and the only thing that was left to the world was the burning flames that made their limbs come alive. Something about it made Marinette feel like, although everything around her was on fire, as long as Cat Noir will be there, all will be alright.

            They kissed until their faces were tired and their mouths were dry, and his body was pressing against hers, more insisting than ever, and she could feel parts of him touching her in ways she had never been touched before.

            “O-okay, I… I think I’m ready now,” she let him know, breaking away from him, while trying to ignore the fluttering of her heart.

            “You sure?”

            She nodded. “Millions of girls are eaten out every day in the world– right? It happens all the goddamn freaking time… It can’t be that horrible…”

            He chuckled. “I even heard it could be quite pleasant,” he agreed, as he snaked between her legs and began to slowly undress her.

            Her gaze was on the ceiling the instant she felt Cat Noir’s fingers tingling with her underwear’s elastic band, and her cheeks were so red, they practically shone in the dark. “Oh, my God, a boy is gonna make out with my vagina,” she whined, covering her mouth with one hand.

            “If it really makes you uncomfortable, we can stop uh– We can do it some other time. I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything…”

            She shook her head. “I just talk a lot when I’m nervous. Do me a favor, and just ignore me.”

            He shrugged at that, and resumed what he was doing.

            “Did you know there was a song about it?” she said, as the thought crossed her mind. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Also, did you know that 39% of men in France didn’t mind going down on their girlfriend even if it wasn’t reciprocated?” she blurted out fact after fact, in order to silence the crazy voices that were screaming unintelligible noises inside her head. “I even read somewhere that finger stimulation could really help to reach orgasm, too– not that you’d be able to do that because… well, you know, claws and stuff…”

            Cat Noir moved slowly, without hesitation, and their bodies united together, his warm, chocolaty breath, dancing around her plump, velvety lips, as their frames bonded together. A feeling of epiphany, of elation, infiltrated Marinette’s veins, as bubbles detonated under her skin, while his insistent mouth was parting her folds in a shy, inexperienced way, but that still sent wild shudders along her nerves, inflicting her with sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling.

            Marinette gasped and whimpered, mourned the loss of her senses and awareness in moans and deep sighs, as she dissolved into his kiss, and into him. A series of well-calibrated _ahs_ escaped her lips as he finally found her clitoris, and flicked it with his tongue. She had to shut her eyes close.

            “You okay up here?” he asked her.

            She nodded frenetically. “M-more th-han okay,” she whispered, as her hips began to mechanically follow his movements.

            No boy had ever touched her like this before, and no boy had ever made her feel like this, and even though she had never pictured herself sharing this kind of… intimacy with Cat Noir before, not even in her wildest dreams, she couldn’t help but believe that he was the only one that was right for her– not Adrien, not Luka… _Him_ , Cat Noir.

            _I love you_ , she wanted to tell him, but the words were stuck in her throat and she had no idea how to gag them out. _I love you so much, and I’m so sorry it took me so long to realize it– to realize that I would probably love you way more than you will ever claim to love me._

She _loved_ him and she had to bit on her lips to keep herself from screaming out his name, when his mouth finally managed to push her over the edge. She _loved_ him and she wanted to tell him that she was Ladybug, she wanted him to know who she was, to know exactly how and why she had the right to claim him hers.

            Instead, all she said was, “w-what the heck are you doing?” when she felt him placing open-mouthed kisses and sucking on the inside of her thighs, leaving there a multitude of purple-blue marks.

            “Leaving evidence,” he said, as if it couldn’t be more obvious.

            “Oh, right… I- uh… f-forgot about that,” she realized, still half-dazed by the feeling of him. “I… need to videotape you moving your ears and talking or-or some-uh thing… and t-take uh… pictures…”

            He winked at her from where he was lying, and she felt her skin swell and redden even more. “Be my guest,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her.

            She instantly reached for her phone on her nightstand and urged him to join her face level– she was definitely not taking a picture of him in this position– even though he assured her he didn’t mind– and he posed in front of the camera like a professional, smirking, flexing his muscles, kissing Marinette’s cheek, before he accepted to record himself saying that Marinette truly possessed the powers to make any man in Paris do whatever she wanted from him.

            Suddenly, it felt so easy for Marinette to ask him for one last thing. “I want more,” she said, dead serious, as she disposed of her cell phone and looked at him in the eye.

            He stilled suddenly, looking at her with curious, glowing eyes. “W-what do you mean?”

            “I want to go all the way,” she explained more clearly and, as his lips brushed against hers for the umpteenth time today, she felt his panting, hot and heavy, invading her mouth.

            He tugged her closer and she pressed her hands against his sculpted chest that she had prior freed from its packaging, relishing his firm, hard muscles. She listened for his heartbeat, and it was there, thunderous and rapid, pounding violently against his rib cage.

            Her frozen, exhausted breath mingled with his as they stared at each other, both of them a little unsteady. He shifted to position himself above her, his elbows on either side of her head, her fingers gently closing on his biceps, after she pulled down his suit zipper completely.

            “Are you sure about this?” he asked in a whisper, before he was lost and couldn’t be brought back.

            “Yes,” she said simply. “You?”

            “I’ve never been more sure about something in my life.”

            Desire and hunger glowed in his eyes while he held her against him, then, unable to resist any longer, he leaned in, and their mouths pressed together in a long, passionate kiss. Marinette drew her tongue over his teeth and swallowed his groans of pleasure as they slid closer to each other, no visible gap between them, their bodies, each undulating at the other’s rhythm.

 

***

 

The next day, Marinette’s hair was greasy and she had circles under her eyes, but Adrien saw her enter the common room in a slow, confident pace, walking over to where Sabrina, Alya, and Chloe were standing, and handed the clown-nose to the mayor’s daughter. He blushed furiously, suddenly remembering the night before, and dropped the books he was carrying– Fortunately, nobody seemed to notice.

            “No freaking way!” Chloe hissed, taking the nose from Marinette.

            The latter smiled, and Adrien couldn’t but feel a little proud about the way she was holding herself, with a high chin and straight shoulders, seconds away from bringing the great Chloe Bourgeois to her knees. “Yes, way,” she said, and Alya squeaked in delight. “Now, hold up your end of the bet.”

            “Do you uh… have any proof?” Chloe wasn’t going down easily, but Marinette couldn’t but snicker at her lame attempt to go around the rules and refuse her obvious victory.

            Marinette reached for her phone in her jean pocket and showed her the pictures and the video, but Chloe creased her nose, unconvinced, and tried to prove to Sabrina, at least, that there was no way this could be Cat Noir– but even she couldn’t be bought out by Chloe’s prude assertions.

            Adrien rolled his eyes at the same time as Alya, all while still trying to follow Kim and Nino’s conversation. “Oh, come on! You’re just being a pain in the ass right now. Just admit defeat, and put on the damn nose, Bourgeois.

            Chloe’s shoulders dropped at once and she reluctantly passed the clown-nose over her own. “Fine,” she sighed. “You win. I– I hereby admit that you best me, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and Alya Césaire. I’ll bring you your stuff tomorrow,” she mumbled, before seizing Sabrina by the arm and dragging her with her out of the common room.

            Adrien smiled softly at the sound of Alya and Marinette’s giggles, and moved a couple steps closer to better hear what they were saying– he knew it was wrong, but he just couldn’t help himself.

            “But like… is it true? Did you really get him to… you know…”

            “You thought I was lying?” Marinette asked innocently.

            “No!” Alya was quick to reassure her. “I just uh… wanted to make sure.”

            Marinette shrugged, hugging her backpack closer to her. “Well, I got you the Aqua-Ladybug figurine, and Chloe’s yo-yo, and I’m _still_ waiting for a thank you.”

            “Thank you!” Alya exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her best friend and pull her into a bone crushing hug– Adrien’s face softened at that, and walked to his locker when Nino and Kim decided to leave, and busied himself with books and fencing equipment just to have a reason to stay in the common room, and listen to Alya and Marinette. “So… Are you uh… gonna see him again?” Now, _that_ was a question he found interesting.

            Marinette’s answer, though, almost crushed him. “No,” she said in a soft voice that didn’t, at _all_ , lighten the impact of the blast that detonated in his brain, when this horrible word made through his skull and came crashing inside his head.

            “What?” Alya seemed surprised. “Seriously?”

            “I don’t see why I should… I was only with him for the bet, right? The whole thing didn’t really mean anything, I think, to neither of us.”

            _Was she serious, right now? Did she mean it? Was he blind and stupid to the point where he actually believed she could… love him_?

            Adrien wanted to die. He wanted to curl himself up in a corner and die. How could she do this to him? How could she be so cruel?

            Why does love always felt like a thousand needles stabbing your skin, like an ongoing pain that that never seemed to fade away? Why couldn’t love be described with nice metaphors and simple poetry?

            “So… you don’t like him at all?”

            Marinette shrugged. “He’s just not really my type, you know?” She was lying. She had to be lying. But why would she be lying to her best friend, of all people? Her face didn't betray a hint of an emotion.

            “You have the chance of dating a freaking superhero and you throw it away? Un-freaking-believable!”

            “I don’t know… I just don’t feel any spark…”

            She didn’t feel any spark? Was he then the only one who felt like he was literally walking on air whenever she was close to him? Was he the only one who felt like she was the only one who was right for him, who felt a connection between them, deeper and scarier even, but more miraculous, than the void that held the universe together? Was he the only one who fell in love?

            “Whatever, it’s over now, anyway, so…” her voice never resembled more that of a witch at this instant, and Adrien was suddenly more than happy that he didn’t have but one class with Marinette this year, and that he didn’t necessarily need to talk to her ever again. He didn't even to look at her, considering the fact that he was sitting in front of her. That was good, because, honestly, he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Cherry Pie, Warrant](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OjyZKfdwlng)


	6. Odium

Wrath, from the Latin _ira_ , is an uncontrolled feeling of extreme anger, or rage, which can lead to a sentiment of pronounced hatred ( _Oxford Pocket English Dictionary_ , 2014). “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor Hell a fury like a woman scorned,” (W. Shakespeare)

 

***

Marinette waited for weeks, but Cat Noir never came back after that night.

            She tried to stay optimistic, the first few days– He was busy, she always told herself. He probably got caught up in some super important business he urgently needed to take care of– he’d tell her all about it anyway, when he’ll be back. After a week, she managed to convince herself that he had lost his ring again and that it was the reason he hadn’t shown up yet– he simply couldn’t transform– I mean, it’s happened before, after all, and she was sure she was going to laugh when she’ll hear about it.

            And then, a hundred years went by, and Marinette was spending all her nights in her room, waiting for him to miraculously appear on her balcony.

            She didn’t go out with her friends anymore. She missed patrol duties–

            She’d tried to run into him as Ladybug, of course, but he was nowhere to be found. Not on the rooftop of Notre-Dame, and the Eiffel Tower never looked more vacant. She stalked the Ladyblog day and night to see if she could get Intel on his whereabouts, but Alya’s followers never really posted anything useful. She felt numb, in the cool night air, like she was swimming in an ocean of black and blue goo, each time she had the courage to slip on her suit and go outside, scouring the city for him.

            The thought of calling him had crossed her mind… but she always hung up before she was able to leave a message. She didn’t know what to say– she couldn’t call him to just… what? hang out? They were superheroes– They had a duty to the people of Paris. He probably realized that, the other night, and was trying to fix his mistake. Superheroes _cannot_ have affairs with civilians– not that it was written anywhere, _per se_. It was more of a primeval rule everyone had agreed upon millennia ago: Superheroes do not have affairs with civilians and superheroes’ identities must remain a secret. Any comic she’s ever read seconded it.

            Well, it was either that or the sex was awful.

            Oh, God. The sex was awful, wasn’t it? It was awful and terrible, and he regretted everything and never wanted to see her again. She took advantage of him, didn’t she? She took advantage of him and now, he felt ashamed and humiliated, and couldn’t even look at himself in a mirror. No wonder he didn’t want to see her– she was the one to blame for that– she inflicted it upon him. She was the reason she was in this mess, wasn’t she?

            “Ugh!” Marinette groaned, as she pricked her finger with the needle of her sewing machine again, before punching it violently and throwing it off the table– it took a full plate of cucumber sandwiches with it as it broke on the floor, in addition to a pile of cheap fabric that dove right in the paint buckets Nathaniel had left on display next to the stage set he was currently working on. “ _Shit_!” she hissed, as she hurried to pick up everything before it was ruined– the fabric and costumes were school property and Marinette could seriously get in trouble for that– but she didn’t know which to save first, the clothes or the food, and, as she tried to clean up her mess, she tripped over the buckets, spilling paint all over the floor, and slipped, trashing her own clothes, and falling right in the middle of a huge puddle of red, blue and green.

            And then, just like that, she began to cry.

            She cried because she knew she was alone– everyone else was in the cafeteria or outside of school on lunch break. She cried because she was a hot mess that couldn’t do anything right, a klutz that couldn’t control her own movements, a host in her own body.

            She cried because the end-of-school play was taking place in barely two weeks and she was positive she didn’t have time to make another set of eight costumes for her friends. She cried because the Spring Ball Opening Ceremony was next month and she had yet to come up with a unique design for a breathtaking gown that would impress and inspire fashion houses to invest in her.

            She cried because all her friends had already been accepted to their first choice universities while she was still running after anyone who was willing to write her a good recommendation letter to just have a chance to be received at the Berlin University of Arts.

            She cried because, just yesterday, she found herself hoping, praying for an akuma attack to happen, just so she could see Cat Noir, and make sure he was okay, before punching him in the guts and pushing him off of the Montparnasse tower.

            She cried because her heart was broken to pieces and no one had sat her down, looked at her, _really_ looked at her, and tried to notice all the pain she was holding within.

            It wasn’t that hard to see, really. Her smiles were fake, her laughs were fake, and her clothes were too mundane, and didn’t even match her shoes. She didn’t wear makeup anymore, and her hair was always tied up in a messy bun. She looked tired, so white, like she had just been brought up from the dead.

            She stayed up late, studying, and was at the top of her class again– Grades seemed to be the only form of reward she was allowed to receive, so she held on to them. She stopped drawing.

            “Mar! Hey!” a worried voice called out from the other end of the room, before Nino Lahiffe, her best friend Alya’s boyfriend, came rushing towards her, unsure about how to help the situation. “Hey, hey! Marinette! What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, and one could sense the desperation in his voice, as he kneeled in the mess she’d made around her and took her by the shoulders, pulling her in for a comforting hug.

            She tried to talk, of course, but her salty tears were quick to drown her words out. Her hands and hair were full of paint and she looked like she was choking on her own despair. Her face was swollen and red, and she hid it in Nino’s neck, who whispered gentle “shhh” into her ear, slowly stroking her back in an attempt to calm her sobs.

            “Shhh, it’s fine… It’s okay, Mar. I’m here. Shhh…”

            She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed hard, cried for what felt like hours, and he didn’t once complain about the dirty surrounding or the paint she was wiping onto his clothes.

            She had been lucky, she thought, that it was Nino who found her and not someone else– Alya would’ve probably made a scene and gotten all wired up, she would’ve made her spill out everything and would’ve gone on a witch hunt to scratch the person who had made her BFF cry’s eyes out.

            Chloe would’ve made it awkward– She wouldn’t have known what to do with herself and was never good at pep talks anyway. Juleka would’ve run off to get Alya.

            But Nino just stayed there, held her, and waited silently for the moment to pass. He didn’t say anything– he just let her cry.

            “T-thanks,” she breathed, finally letting go of him. His shirt was ruined with tears and paint, but he didn’t seem to care.

            “Don’t worry about it,” he assured her, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Do you wanna talk about it?” She shook her head, wiping off her last tears, and thanked him again for not insisting. “I understand. Mar, you’ve been working in here since morning… I think you need a break.”

            She threw a look around her, then stared back at him in panic. “The place’s a mess… I–“

            “ _I_ ’ll clean up,” he cut her off, holding out a hand, as he got up on his feet and helped her do the same. “Go wash up and go home. I’ll tell Bustier you weren’t feeling well. She’ll get it.”

            “B-but…”

            “It wasn’t a suggestion, Mar,” he said, a little more seriously, as he wiped away a fleeting tear from her cheek and rearranged a strand of hair behind her ear. She nodded quietly, looking down. “Look, I came here to see if anyone needed help with something, and you obviously do. Let me help– you know I’m on the Committee, as well, don’t you?”

            “I– I forgot…” she admitted, blushing slightly.

            He shrugged. “It’s fine, but you seriously need to go– you need rest, and… and chocolate ice cream, _and_ to binge-watch Cyprien’s and Norman’s sketches on Youtube.” It made her chuckle slightly, and he took pride in it, just before her gloom returned, as she glanced around the room again.

            “The costumes are ruined…” she said in a low voice, gesturing to the clothes on the ground.

            “They’re not. It’s just paint. We’ll wash it off– Now, _go_!”

            It took some more convincing on Nino’s part, but Marinette finally agreed to leave everything to him and go. She winded up in the girls’ bathrooms and tried to take out as much paint from her hair as possible, all while cleaning up her hands, and clothes– her jacket was completely ruined– and struggling to remove the dry paint from under her fingernails.

            She was standing on two wobbly legs, as she looked at herself in the mirror, and knew she was on the edge of breaking down again, and not even Tikki’s discreet pats through her sweatshirt’s pocket were enough to comfort her.

            She pulled her hair into a high ponytail and waited for her face to go back to normal before stepping out and heading to the common room, where she’d left her things. It was empty, as she’d expected it, except for Adrien, who was busy tidying up his locker, or something.

            “Hey, Adrien!” she greeted him enthusiastically, because it would be rude to ignore him, but he just glanced at her, shooting her a jaded look, before going back to his occupations. She didn’t comment and walked towards her own locker, opened it, and began to put her stuff back in her bag. “So… you still haven’t shown up for your costume fitting,” she remarked, looking for anything to say, because, right now, she really needed to talk to keep herself from crying again. “The play’s in two weeks,” she kept on going. “You’ll be playing Sganarelle, right? It’s the lead role– your costume needs to be on point and… well, Mrs. Nawfal is kinda relying on me, you know?” she said, closing her locker and turning around to face him– he still hasn’t talked yet– he wasn’t even looking at her. “Uh… how about we meet up later this week?”

            “I’ll be busy,” he replied simply.

            She snorted. “I haven’t even given you a time yet,” she reminded him.

            “Oh, right. When would you like to meet up?” he asked in an uninterested tone– she tried not to read much into it.

            “Uh… how about Thursday after school?” she suggested, because she knew it was his off-day.

            “’Still busy,” he answered bluntly, before throwing his backpack on his shoulder and violently shutting his locker door.

            He was about to walk away, without even looking in her direction, when she hurried after him to stop him. “Hey, you don’t need to be rude about it…” she frowned at him. “You’ll have to come by, at one point or another… and I was trying to make you a favor by picking a time that would fit your schedule.”

            His green eyes snapped at her, sending an icy shiver all through her body, and she had to take a step back. “Sure, yeah, because you’re so goddamn nice and perfect all the time, right? You’re always there for everyone, always acting so kind, and caring, like some flawless fucking princess, or something…” he sighed, rolling his eyes at her. “ _Please_ …”

            Marinette’s eyes widened and her heart fluttered in her chest. Was that really Adrien talking to her like that? “D-do you… Do you have a problem with me?”

            His jaw twitched and he looked away for a second, only for his angry gaze to find her again. “The sweet innocent look suits you perfectly, with your big blue eyes, and your adorable little freckles. Little does anyone know what a real backstabbing bitch those features could hide, right?” he spat at her, and if a stare could kill, Marinette would be dead and buried a long time ago.

            She shoved him when she realized he was too close to her, a defying look on her face. “What is with _you_?”

            He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, a little more calm, “I just happen to have little to no respect for liars and hypocrites.”

            Her eyes prickled with new tears but she refused to let them out in front of Adrien– especially not after what he just told her. “Look,” she hissed between her teeth, “I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but until you figure it out, I suggest you stay the fuck away from me,” she said in a steady voice, before turning her back at him and heading towards the doors.

            “I heard you slept with Cat Noir.” That managed to make her steps come to a halt.

            “ _What_?” she barked, turning back to him, her fists, clenched, at both her sides. There was electricity in her eyes, fury, and rage, and she looked like she was about to rip his throat out. “What did you just say?”

            He shrugged, not caring for her little display of anger. “News travel pretty quickly,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her, as if he found her just ridiculous.

            “ _Fuck you_ , Adrien. You don’t know anything!” she screamed at him, and was rather lucky not to have alerted anyone in the process.

            He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at her with something that resembled loathing and disgust. “I know I don’t sleep with random people to win a bet,” he sneered, his words, full of poison and repulsion. “So, what’s it like to be the first girl who was able to put that poor stray under a leach? Or… is it _him_ that used _you_?”

            Marinette couldn’t stop herself in time and her hand went flying and crashing against Adrien’s cheek. She didn’t regret it. “You have no idea what you’re saying!” she howled at him, stepping forward, her eyes determined, and unflinching. “Who do you think you are, talking to me like this? What have I ever done to you, huh?” she asked furiously, pocking his chest to make him back off. “My personal life does not concern you, and who I decide to sleep with is certainly none of your goddamn business!”

            She was crying again. Half her tears were tears of rage and the other half were tears of pain, and anguish. She irately wiped them away and his heart froze, as he looked at her, his poise slowly breaking apart, and he felt guilty and exposed, out of place, and for a second forgot why he was even angry at her to begin with– all he wanted to do now was take her in his arms and squeeze her hard against his chest, until there would be no room left for sobs.

            _He_ did this, he thought, as panic wailed inside his brain. It was _his_ fault and there were no way he could fix it.

            He looked down, ashamed, but she wasn’t done with him.

            “I used to think so highly of you, Adrien,” she confessed, in a strong and steady voice. “I felt _bad_ for you because of how your father treated you… I always asked myself what could someone so brave, and kind, have ever done to deserve such– such a cold, oppressing lifestyle? But you’re no better than your father, and if these are your true colors, then you deserve every bad thing that ever happened to you,” she condemned him. “And you know what? I may have slept with a guy to win a bet, but at least I’m not hopelessly in love with some superhero who wouldn’t give me the time of the day– But I guess you’re used to chasing after people who don’t give a fuck about you,” she finished him, crying still, but her words were so powerful, they stabbed right through his flesh and wounded his very soul.

            She was gone after that, without looking back, and he stayed in the common room for a while, before managing to pick himself up and go to class.

            She wasn’t there, of course, and he was late, and, as he entered, everyone was talking about his and Marinette’s fight that they overheard from the hallway, but he refused to say anything, even when Nino had tried to pull him apart and talk to him.

            “It’s nothing,” he tried to sound convincing, but it was the first time in recorded History that someone had ever seen Marinette lose her shit like this.

 

***

 

No one, except for Alya, dared to approach Marinette when she arrived to school the next day, but, the same way she didn’t answer her calls last night, and pretended to be sick when she showed up at her place to check up on her, Marinette refused to talk about what happened between her and Adrien.

            “It’s fine,” her best friend assured her. “I just need to make sure you’re okay.”

            “I am,” Marinette replied. “I swear,” she even forced a smile to make her words more believable. “It’s nothing, just a giant misunderstanding. I’m sure it’ll be forgotten in a week.” She was lying and it was obvious, and Alya pouted, but did not insist, and they proceeded to talk about other things, books, movies they loved, Jagged Stone… anything to keep Marinette’s mind off everything that had happened.

            They had a couple classes together, and Alya walked her best friend to most of those they didn’t have in common, before they had to part away when Alya had Advanced Math and Marinette had a free period– she remained in the schoolyard, waiting for it to pass, finding it beyond her reach to walk towards the drama room and continue working on the costumes.

            She sat alone on the concrete, her back against the wall, her arms wrapped around her legs, as she looked at the sky, and tried to ignore the curious looks people were throwing at her– Everyone had heard about her fight with Adrien (well, the very end of it, at least) and the lack thereof information had pushed her friends to come up with crazy theories that could explain what happened– One of them was that they were both in love, but Adrien was under a strict contract with his father that formally forbade him to date anyone, and Marinette got tired of Gabriel’s shenanigans and her not-boyfriend’s refusal to stand up to the latter.

            Another one was that they have been anonymously texting non-stop for weeks, now, and Marinette accidentally found out it was Adrien she was talking to. She tried to surprise him, but he took it the wrong way.

            The latest one was Marinette’s favorite: ‘Agreste’ was actually the name of a very powerful street gang Marinette’s dad came across and got in trouble with, and Adrien didn’t even try to help out the Dupain-Chengs.

            “Hey,” Luka’s voice greeted her, before he lowered himself to sit next to her. She glanced at him wearily, smiled, before looking back at the sky, not saying anything. It was gray and cloudy, suited Marinette’s crappy mood perfectly. “Here,” he said, handing her one of his earphones, as he scoured through his phone for the perfect song to cheer her up.

            She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, letting herself relax, as she recognized the _Pink Martini_ singing _Amado mío_. “ _I_ picked out this song for you,” she whispered in his direction, unable to help a satisfied smirk, as she let her head rest on his shoulder.

            He hummed in response and shifted to wrap an arm around her and pull her closer, before he began to sing along, “ _Many times I’ve whispered, Amado mío, it was just a phrase that I heard in plays I was acting a part_ …”

            “You have such a great voice,” Marinette remarked, curling up against his chest, as he traced soothing circles on her back.

            “ _But now when I whisper_ ,” he went on, “ _Amado mío, can’t you tell I care? By the feeling there… ‘Cause it comes from my heart…_ ”

            “ _I want you ever, I love my darling_ ,” this time, it was Marinette’s voice that accompanied that of the lead singer, “ _Wanting to hold you, and hold you tight…_ ”

            “ _Amado mío,_ ” they sang together now, between chuckles, “ _Love me forever, and let forever… begin tonight…_ ”

            They were giggling uncontrollably when the song ended, laughing at Marinette’s lame attempts to follow Luka’s lead, and joking about how he was singing the wrong lyrics all along. “It’s a really good song,” he told her, as he stretched his legs in front of him and relaxed against the wall. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard of them before,” he admitted sheepishly and Marinette straightened up immediately, breaking off his embrace and looking at him with big, shiny eyes and a wide smile.

            “You _haven’t_?”

            He poked her chin and puffed in exasperation. “What is it with you and looking all smug all of a sudden?” He rolled his eyes at her but her grin persisted, and she was showing teeth now, snickering under her breath. “You know I don’t know every single band there is in the world, right?” he pouted, folding his arms together, and he was blushing a little.

            “I know,” she replied cheekily, “but you’re always so keen to show off all your musical knowledge, and just so _eager_ to prove everyone just how much more you know about it than the average _fanatic_ … I don’t know… I just can’t shake off this feeling of… of _pride_ that _I_ , Marinette Dupain-Cheng, have heard about an amazing band, might I add, that you, Luka mothereffing Couffaine, never knew of! OMG! I feel like I could climb up Everest!” she almost laughed out loud, waggling her eyebrows at him, while Luka was trying hard to contain a guffaw.

            “How about you just settle to come with me to _Falling in Reverse_ ’s concert, next week?” he asked her, pink-cheeked, as he took a brown envelope with Marinette’s ticket in it out of his bag and handed it to her.

            She stopped laughing instantly as she accepted it from him. “Oh, yeah, totally– I told you I’d go with you…” she said a little absentmindedly, as she took a look at the giant mouth that was printed on her ticket– it was smiling provocatively, and had a deep blue tongue running over its bubblegum pink lips. “How much do I owe you?”

            “Fifty.”

            She nodded. “I’ll get them by tomorrow,” she promised.

            He shrugged and glanced away, suddenly incapable of holding Marinette’s gaze– she was so beautiful, it was intimidating, and, every time Luka was hit with the realization, he managed to make everything awkward. “I mean… You don’t need to… Like, I’ll be more than happy to uh… _give_ it you.”

            She shook her head. “Luka, it’s _your_ birthday… If anything, I should be the one paying for your ticket as well…”

            When she looked up at him, he was already staring at her, watching the way her lips moved as she talked, and he glanced away, redder than ever, the instant he realized he had been caught.

            The bell rang before she could say anything, though, and he muttered a goodbye under his breath, too ashamed to meet her eyes, so she just leaned in to kiss his cheek before she got up and headed to class, leaving him behind, in the schoolyard, brain-dead.

 

***

 

“We don’t need to talk,” Marinette was quick to assure Adrien, as the latter stepped inside the drama room for his costume fitting– when their little quarrel had come to Mrs. Nawfal’s attention, the teacher had decided to take matters into her own hands and had scheduled a semi-supervised meeting that fit both their agendas– she will be correcting papers in the classroom next door, if there were to be any sort of problem. “You just go, put this on, and then, you come back and stand on this chair,” she instructed him, and she tried to stay polite, as she handed him Sganarelle’s costume.

            He pressed his lips together, nodded quietly, before he took the clothes from her and headed to the bathrooms to change. He was quick to do so, and did as he was told, as he reentered the drama room, letting Marinette work on his costume.

            She stung him with her needle, more than once, each time, mumbling little sorries under her breath, but he knew her well enough to know that it was intentional. He sighed but didn’t say anything– he probably more than deserved, at this point.

            “The shirt’s fabric is pretty itchy,” he let her know, a little shyly. He wanted to talk to her, but didn’t know what to say– he didn’t even know if he was even allowed to tell her anything at all, after the way he treated her last week.

            “Yeah, it’s because it’s really cheap,” she explained, her voice, muffled by the needles she firmly held between her teeth. “You should wear cotton underneath it– It’s thin enough so you won’t be too hot, but it’ll keep the costume’s tissue from irritating your skin.”

            He tried to apologize to her repeatedly, but each time they miraculously found each other alone in a room, in the library, or just crossing paths in the hallways, his tongue bloated up like a balloon and he lost all ability to speak.

            Marinette did things to him– she made him angry and insecure all the time, jealous of every guy she spoke with, she made him lose his mind and composure, and act impulsively, erased the image of the perfect little son that was practically forced onto him by his father. She made him lose balance and confront his emotions– He felt more himself when he was with her, because she allowed him to be angry, and jealous, instead of making him bottle up everything and deal with it later on, on his own.

            “Noted,” he nodded, biting on his lower lip.

            He didn’t try to talk again after that, and Marinette remained silent. They were done something like half an hour later; Marinette noted Adrien’s measurements on a piece of paper along with the adjustments she still had to work on, and Adrien helped her clean up, before they both wished Mrs. Nawfal a nice weekend and headed towards the exit.

            Outside, a car was waiting for him and he almost asked Marinette if she needed a lift, a good way to ask for another chance, he thought, but Luka was already waiting for her next to his bike, reading something on his phone.

            She hurried down the stairs and ran towards him, laughing loudly as she did, and Adrien watched him pick her up and hug her tightly, prolonging the contact for what seemed like hours, before his driver honked him back to reality.

            No. No, no, nu-uh.

            Marinette couldn’t be with Luka, _okay_? She just… she _couldn’t_.

            Well, for one, she was way out of his league. She was too good for him in every way, prettier, nicer, smarter, funnier– basically, just a thousand times better than him. Marinette engaged with people, she was generous, always tried to help when she could, she was a fighter, a sun-shaped night-light in a world of shadows, whereas Luka was more of a loner type. All he ever talked about was music and old movies. He didn’t have many friends– never really tried to make any. He wore eyeliner and nail polish, and his jeans were always so painfully tight– _fucking_ emo– and Marinette, really, had no business in hanging out with him. Adrien just didn’t get it.

            “How is it fair that she already found someone else and I’m stuck with feeling miserable all the damn time?” Adrien blurted out, once in the car.

            His question was ignored by his driver, of course, but Plagg, who was resting in his lap, lifted his head towards him and eyed him jadedly. “Well, it’s not like you gave her an option other than to try and move on,” he said, and Adrien couldn’t tell if his kwami was openly mocking him, or if he was being serious.

            “Move on from what? She never loved me,” Adrien grumbled– admitting it out loud hurt just as much, if not more, as hearing Marinette say the words. “She was only with me to win that fucking bet.” The kwami shrugged but didn’t say anything. “What?” Adrien asked, but Plagg just shook his head and tucked it between his paws. “Plagg, come on, I know that look– just say it already,” he pressed him again, flicking him on his ear.

            The little cat tried to bite off his owner’s index but sighed when he was met with the latter’s very determinate look. “The girl wasn’t forced into doing anything– if she really wanted nothing to do with you, she wouldn’t have agreed to the bet in the first place. Besides, it only ever mentioned oral sex. She could’ve just stopped there, if she really wasn’t into you at all,” Plagg explained in a weary voice, as he turned on his back and stretched across his owner’s legs. “Plus, she chose to lose her virginity to _you_ , of all people. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

            “I heard her talking with Alya, Plagg,” Adrien reminded him. “She was going to break up with me, anyway.”

            “So you decided to end it first? So, what? You’d win?”

            Adrien shrugged. “Marinette had already won. That’s how it works, you know– only losers fall in love.”

            Plagg remained quiet for the rest of the ride, then hid in his owner’s pocket when the latter got out of the car and headed for his room. He was greeted by Natalie at the door, but barely nodded at her, before he crashed into his bed, his face turned to the pillow.

            Marinette _hated_ him, plus, she was dating Luka, now– she will be hugging him even more, and touching him, like she used to touch _him_ , and Adrien just couldn’t stand the thought. She will be coming to school on his motorcycle and they will be walking around hand in hand– they will have lunch together and kiss between classes in the crowded hallways–

            The mere image of Marinette’s lips on a mouth other than his made him sick– and the idea of her with another boy made him want to throw up his own heart.

            “Have you told her?” Plagg asked him, as he landed on the pillow next to him.

            “Tell her what?”

            “That you loved her.”

            “Uh… Not– not _explicitly_ ,” Adrien admitted, glancing away.

            “Well, maybe you should,” the kwami advised him.       

            “Why? It’s too late, already.”

            “It’s not,” Plagg seemed convinced of himself. “Go over there, tell her that you love her. At best, you two kiss under the stars and get back together.”

            “And, at worst?”

            The kwami shrugged. “You already look like a piece of wet lettuce someone has left in the fridge. What’s seriously the worst that could happen?”

 

Marinette was listening to _Guns ‘N Roses_ while experimenting with a new set of eye shadow she had just borrowed from Juleka, when Cat Noir touched down on her balcony.

            She didn’t believe it, at first, and her brain wronged her to think it was all but a dream. She reached for his cheek, half-expecting him to fade away or disappear, but she felt flesh under her fingertips, a warm, soft skin against her palm, and green cat-like eyes staring back at her in complete silence. Suddenly, the world stopped and there was it again, Cat Noir thought to himself, as his heart froze in his chest and big words like passion and ardor erupted inside his brain, reminding him just how much he was still in love with her. She probably didn’t feel the same, but now, he just wanted to tell her that he loved her, and was ready to fight for her– that he loved her, and he was going to do anything for her to love him back. He was still furious at her, because she lied to him and used him, but he didn’t care. He wanted her back.

            She slapped him, forcing him awake, and he looked at her in complete disbelief, as his gloved hand reached for his cheek. “How _dare_ you?” she barked, as fury painted red all over her face.

            “Marinette…” he tried, before she cut him off brutally.

            “I don’t want to hear it. Get _lost_ ,” a snarl of rage escaped her throat.

            Wait. Why was _she_ angry? _She_ hurt _him_ – okay, he couldn’t think about this now. If he did, he was going to burst.

            “Marinette, please, hear me out,” he pleaded, but she didn’t change her mind.

            “Nothing that you say will matter anyway, so I’m gonna save you some time and tell you, again, to get _the fuck_ lost.”

            Okay, just say it. He needed to say it. Three words, eight letters, blurt them out. Say them, and be done with it. Now, before she turned away and took with her his maybe only chance. _Say them_. “Marinette, I- I love you.” He knew it took her by surprise, as her expression slightly softened, her eyes wide and shiny with tears, and her jaw flew open. “Please, let me explain…”

            She shook her head and took a step back, folding her arms against her chest, nervously looking around. “After three fucking weeks? I’ve waited for you– you _douchetard_!” Her voice was loud and high-pitched, and sent Cat Noir three weeks back, when he decided to disappear and never come back. “Have you ever heard of the expression too little, too late? I don’t want to talk to you. Go _away_ ,” she said again, in a steadier voice, but he knew she was about to cry.

            The revelation hit him so hard he almost lost balance and fell to his knees. _No_ , a desperate voice yowled in his head. He had been wrong. He had been so, so _wrong_ –

            He couldn’t go away, not now– she _waited_ for him– he just needed to explain– she’d understand, he was sure of it–

            S _he would understand, he just needed to explain._

He tried to reach for her hand, but she snapped it away from him. “Please! I-I heard what you told Alya! A-about how I was nothing to you and you were only with me because of the bet!” he exclaimed, then paused, taking in her horrified face. “I- You _broke_ my heart.”

            “I did it for _you_!” she shouted, shoving him against her balcony’s handrail. “You fucking _moron_!”

            “ _What_?”

            “Did you really think that Alya freaking Césaire, A.K.A. the moderator of the Ladyblog, would’ve let me off the hook if I told her that I was in love with you?!”

            “You’re… in love with me?”

            She was in love with him? _She was in love with him_.

            _She was in love with him, she’d waited for him, and he never came back._

            He wanted to punch himself in the face. He wanted someone to seize him by the collar and throw him in an alley, and just beat him up, until the world made sense again. Until he found a way to salvage this, and erase what he had done.

            “That’s not the point!” she screamed at him, stumping her foot on the floor. “How could you believe for a _second_ that I didn’t want to be with you? After _all_ the things we shared– after I gave myself _entirely_ to you?” Her voice broke, and she was crying heavily, but she still decided to go on, prove him just how wrong he was and hurt him in ways he thought weren’t possible– no hit he ever took was as painful as watching her cry _because of him_. “After I spent nights crying myself to sleep in hope that maybe the great _Cat Noir_ will come back?” The mention of his name sounded like an insult. “You thought _I_ broke your heart?” she asked, laughing emptily between two sobs. “What do you think you did to _me_?” She held his gaze, and her eyes were so blue and so cold, he felt them like knives tearing through his flesh. “What do you think you’re doing to me now by basically admitting that you thought I was some kind of– some kind of _w-whore_ that would sleep around to get what she wants?” Her hands reached up to cover her face and she cried into them, ruining her makeup, before she turned her back at him, suddenly unable to face him.

            “Marinette…” he whispered, gently laying a hand on her shoulder, but she yanked it off violently.

            “No!” she shouted. “I’m done listening to you petty excuses! _Leave_!” she ordered him. “I don’t want to see you ever again!”

            “Please, don’t do that!” he begged her, reaching for her arm again, and forcing her to turn his way to look at him. “You can’t _mean_ that! You _love_ me!”

            “I _loved_ you,” she corrected him, her voice, like that of a snake. “And then, you hurt me, and now, I _hate_ you.”

            “You’re lying,” he refused to believe her. “You’re lying!” he repeated again, more desperate this time, as his clawed hands closed around her shoulders, and his own eyes began to water. “Please, Marinette, I _love_ you. Don’t do that– _Please_.”

            “You did it on your own,” she hissed, taking his hands off her. “I’m done with you, Cat Noir.” She regretted the words as soon as they were spoken, but pride and wrath forbade her to take them back. “We’re done. Forever.” She paused, looked down, and something dark inside of her pushed her to add one last thing. “I’d say better luck with Ladybug…”

            She said it in a very low voice, but he still heard her, and thought she’d killed him. “I- I don’t care for her! I want _you_!” he wanted to shout, but she’d shot him in his neck and he couldn’t speak anymore.

            “… but you’ve lost us both,” she told him, and he looked at her, frozen in fear and panic, before she left him there and hurried inside her room, locking the trapdoor behind her and pulling the curtains of her windows. Then, she fell on the floor, her legs, too shaky to hold her still, and cried into the long sleeves of her shirt, while Tikki rubbed circles on her arms, trying to comfort her the best she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...  
>  SORRY


	7. The next Mrs. Agreste

Sloth, from the Latin _tristitia_ or _acedia_ which means ‘without care,’ is often associated with apathy, and may be defined as “an absence of interest in life in general or a habitual disinclination to exertion” ( _Oxford Pocket English Dictionary_ , 2014).

            ‘All places shall be hell that is no heaven,’ ( _Dr. Faustus_ , C. Marlowe)

 

***

 

Marinette felt numb, as if she had just crawled out of a grave and her body was still asleep, while thousands of needles and pins were stabbing her flesh continuously.

            She wore the same sweater two days in a row and today looked like she hadn’t washed her hair in weeks. She stayed on the benches during P.E. and just watched, as everyone played ball and goofed around– it was the last sports session before spring vacations– but she had no place among the living, anyway.

            “Ugh… I just feel so disgusting,” she grumbled to herself, as she threw her backpack inside her locker, only picking up a pen and a notebook for Bustier’s class.

            “You’re not. You’re beautiful,” Luka assured her, as he placed a hand around her waist to pull her closer to him and kiss her temple.

            She tried to smile, but it didn’t stay on– she felt awful and ugly, and her face was greasy, and no compliment in the world was going to change that. She turned around, closing her locker door, and leaned against the cold metal to look up at him–

            If she closed her eyes, and if Luka refrained from speaking, his hair and eyes would change colors and his clothes would become all black leather and magic. Claws would grow at his fingertips instead of his nails, while a black mask would appear, spreading on half of his face, and only then, would Marinette enjoy the way his mouth worked against hers.

            “I’ll see you after class?” he asked against her lips, and she just nodded, her eyes still closed, as she tried to hold on to the image of Cat Noir hugging her.

            Marinette wasn’t sure exactly when did she become Luka’s girlfriend (she suspected it was right after the _Falling in Reverse_ concert, because he had a picture of both of them that night displayed as his phone wallpaper– they were both sticking their tongues out at the camera– Marinette had found a way to turn her tongue entirely blue by eating tons of sour candy and had colored her lips with her lightest shade of pink to go _Falling in Reverse_ all the way, then had nagged Luka to do the same– they ended up taking selfies with lots of people too, all very amused to see their _dedication_ , and Marinette even distributed some sour candy to a couple of strangers who wanted to do the same, and let them borrow her lipstick– that she dumped in the trash right after Luka drove her back home…) _but_ they were kissing now, apparently, and even though Marinette didn’t particularly enjoy the way he always tried to grab her hands when they were walking side by side, she preferred not to say anything– _she_ was the one who kissed him first, after all.

            Luka had bought them standing tickets for the concert last Sunday– Marinette had spent the entire weekend learning the songs of _Falling in Reverse_ ’s last album, _Coming Home_ , so she would be able to sing along with the band– and the place was already crowded when they arrived, with people smoking pot and cigarette next to the fences right before the stage, dancing to the beat of the opening act– and Marinette still didn’t know if it had been the ambiance, the chemicals or the loud music that made her dizzy suddenly, maybe it had just been her brain messing with her, but she knew that, at some point that night, Luka’s face had morphed into that of another boy, and it had been Cat Noir who was staring back at her, looking like he wanted to kiss her–

            So, she’d just… she had leaned in and kissed him, deeply and fiercely, as his gloved hands had made their way to her hair, his claws, gently grazing against her scalp, while his tail had slowly wrapped around her ankle, and her thoughts had screamed that she loved him, persuading her body that she shouldn’t, ever, let go.

            They had kissed, and the whole world had stopped, but Marinette only realized she had been kissing the wrong boy when they had let go of each other and she was faced with sky blue eyes, instead of sinking in an ocean of green.

            A wave of panic had taken over her then, and she had suddenly felt like she wanted to cry and throw up, or just run away and leave, hide, transform, get out of here– but her body had ignored all her signals and refused to move, refused to let go of Luka, because it was still very much convinced it was holding Cat Noir.

            Now, she couldn’t help but notice the difference– when she kissed Cat Noir, he never knew what to do with his hands, or his tongue, he struggled to breathe properly and sometimes, he had to let go of her at the worst moments, but their exchange was loving and devoted, and often made her picture a perfect life where both of them would grow old together, surrounded by children and grandchildren, and laughter and care and love, and where they would kiss whenever they wanted, forever.

            Luka was a good kisser, there was no denying that, and they shared some kind of passion together, but each time their lips met, Marinette couldn’t help but feel awkward, and guilty, and sick, and she was always was the first one to break away–

            “Actually,” Marinette whispered, still holding on to his collar, “don’t wait for me. I think I’m gonna stay and study in the library tonight,” she said.

            “Do you want me to come back to pick you up?” he asked.

            She shook her head. “N-no… uh… I’ll just catch a ride with someone else, or call my parents… I don’t want to bother you,” she added, a little shy.

            “It’s no bother,” he smiled at her, placing his hands on her waist and drawing her closer to him.

            She shrugged. “It’s really fine,” she insisted, pushing him away slightly. “And I promise to call you if I don’t find anyone to take me home,” she assured him.

            “Okay,” he nodded, kissing her forehead before he was off to class– Marinette sighed, and decided to go as well.

            “Ugh, I know right? _Ew_ ,” Chloe’s voice cut into Adrien’s mind, which was still focused on the awful scene that was Marinette kissing someone else, but he still turned around to face his childhood friend– the distraction was more than welcome. “I can’t believe she’s dating fucking Luka Couffaine. The guy’s not even remotely close to being her type.”

            “Really?” Adrien lifted an eyebrow at his friend. “What do _you_ know about it?”

            Chloe smirked at him. “I know she has a thing for blonds and green eyes,” she winked at him, making him blush and looking down instantly, before she burst out laughing. “But seriously though, Adrien,” she carried on, a little more grave, “I was rooting for you two… whatever happened?”

            He shrugged. “I was an idiot...”

            “You were both idiots,” she interrupted him. “People are idiots all the time– I was an idiot too,” she said, gesturing to the clown-nose she was still wearing– this time, for another bet that she had lost– “I shouldn’t have brought Marinette into it. But that doesn’t mean that it can’t be salvaged. Do you know how many times Nate and I have fought? We still fight– _all the damn time_ – and over the most trivial things… but I still love him, and he still loves me. You know, I said… _so_ many things I didn’t mean, and I hurt him in _so_ many ways– he, too– God, he can be such an asshole when he wants to… Ugh, I’m never gonna forget that painting of Lila that he did– that fucking bitch– but… we’re still together…” she shrugged. “I _kissed_ Kim, for fuck’s sake, at his _birthday_ party, no less, and look at us… We always find new ways to fuck up our relationship, and then we always manage to build it right back up.” She paused. Adrien was looking at her with wide eyes, full of hope and light, and she smiled at him, before she glanced away and blushed a little bit. “We can’t all be as perfect as Alya and Nino, you know? But the thing is, everything can be saved, if you’re willing to put in the effort.”

            “But that only works if she still loves me, which she does not,” Adrien reminded her. “She _hates_ me.”

            Chloe scoffed. “Of course she doesn’t hate you. She’s just… she’s mad. She’s like _really_ mad. Well, who wouldn’t be? You basically called her a liar and _whore_.”

            “I didn’t mean it!” Adrien immediately defended himself.

            “ _Relax_ ,” Chloe chuckled. “Just wait for the storm to pass and… ya know… do something.”

            “It’s already too late, she’s Luka’s girlfriend now.”

            “So, what? She doesn’t love him.”

            “ _How_ do you _know_ that?” Adrien frowned at her, as he folded his arms together.

            Chloe rolled her eyes at him. “Because she’s been in love with you since forever, Adrien!” she almost said it too loudly, but relaxed when she realized that the common room was empty. “Duh.”

            Adrien’s jaw flew open. “W- _What_? _Me_? R-really?”

            “Ugh. On what planet do you even live? How didn’t you see it?”

            “I-I… uh…”

            “Yeah, you were a moron–“ she sighed. “But, whatever. We’re all morons– just don’t push it too far and be even more of a moron by letting another chance pass you by,” she told him, before the school bell rang a second time, and they both had to go to class.

 

***

 

When Faustus has signed his contract with the Devil, the latter presented him with… distractions, in order to shift his attention away from God, and make him believe in Hell– as Ladybug lifted her head towards the starry sky, she finally realized just how far away she was from Heaven, and how close the ground was to the Underworld.

            How could someone be holy in all they did, if the Seven Deadly Sins represented such a big part of our everyday life? Ladybug let out a deep sigh, as she jumped off the rooftop of Notre-Dame. They were here, always, in everything we did, in every way we looked. They just had different names, now. Venality, paranoia– Insecurity– Profligacy… Carnality… Contempt– Boredom–

            Ladybug hopped from rooftop to rooftop, sliding over the centuries-old blue and gray tiles, and trusted her yo-yo to keep balance. She ran without making a sound and the city slept tight, because it knew it had a guardian. She could see the top of the Eiffel Tower from the _Lafayette Galleries_ and suddenly, she decided to climb the wrought iron masterpiece.

            Pride was the most dangerous of the Seven Deadly Sins, for Pride easily masqueraded as Honor and Dignity, but was in reality what brought to life the evil toothy shadows that dozed off at the back of our brain. Pride was a smooth-talker and Pride was what drove Alya to take the bet in the first place.

            Then, there was Envy. Envy was the most common one. Envy didn’t really seem like much– it appeared dull and unimportant, mundane. Everyone envied someone or something– but jealousy and covetousness were perilous things to play with; sometimes, they resulted in marvelous triumphs of sublimation. Often, they gave rise to rash decisions and crimes of passion. Marinette envied Ladybug for her fame and her recognition– this is where it led her.

            Envy was like a snake and brought Greed. With Greed, came Gluttony, and with Gluttony came Lust. Lust, just like Wrath, brought your id, your basic, most animalistic instincts into the light. They fueled your body with madness and desire, and used it to burn all sense of reason and morality.

            And then, when you lost, because that’s what you did best, you were done forever, and nothing made sense anymore, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care for anything at all.

            It was easy to overcome them, religion says. Be pure, and guard your heart. Be humble, be kind. Pray every day and serve God’s word, you need everything that is around you. Be diligent, be patient, moderate your emotions. Take deep breaths and carve in every word, before you let it fall. Be generous. Be thankful–

            “Mar, _stop thinking._ You need to calm the fuck down,” Ladybug scolded herself, as she threw away her yo-yo and hooked it around the tip of the Eiffel Tower, before she began to climb it. “You need to. Calm. Down.”

            There was something reassuring about finding yourself this high above the earth, Ladybug believed, where nothing could reach you.

            She liked to pretend that her problems were left on the ground and, if only for a second, a minute, an instant, she was able to escape them. She felt free, with the icy wind blowing in her hair and on her face, and she was so close to the moon, she was sure if she jumped high enough, she would fall into space. Ladybug loved the idea– she grew up fearing night monsters and shadows, but found haven among the stars.

            She could’ve taken the stairs, or tried to work out the elevator, but doing so wouldn’t have given her the same satisfaction as escalating it on her own. She landed on the floor of the third base that was open to public, letting out a deep sigh and stretching her arms above her head, as she contemplated the idea of going even higher, before her gaze caught on something that displeased her.

            “Did you _follow_ me?” she asked the shadow with glowing green eyes that was leaning against the handrail, as if it was waiting for her to make her way up here. “I told you not to.” There was something heinous in her voice, but that Cat Noir decided to ignore.

            He shrugged, didn’t look at her. “I didn’t follow you,” he lied. “Besides, last time I checked, the city isn’t yours.” Ladybug shrugged back and turned away from him, passing a leg over the handrail, and she was about to jump off the three hundred and twenty-seven meters, when he impetuously reached for her arm and held her back. “Marinette, wait…”

            She yanked his hand off immediately and got down, then folded her arms together, still refusing to look at him. “I have nothing to say to you– Didn’t you get the message?” she sounded a little more aggressive, this time. “Leave. Me. _Alone_.”

            Ladybug was good at smiling in front of the cameras and lying about how good the both of them worked together– but Cat Noir saw, tonight, how she always kept herself from touching him or meeting his eyes, how she stiffened altogether every time he spoke. So, he let her answer all the questions that weren’t specifically directed at him, and talked as little as possible, making himself scarce, because he knew just how important it was for them to maintain this image of union and strength, especially when they were in front of an audience.

            She looked down at the ground and passed her other leg over the handrail, but he managed to stop her a second time. “M’Lady, _please_ …”

            “You don’t get to call me ‘your lady’ anymore,” she grumbled, cutting him off. “In fact, you don’t get to call me anything,” she said, turning her head slightly his way to take in his shocked expression. "Not Bugaboo, not anything. From now on, I’m just Ladybug to you. I help you defeat akumas, and keep the city safe. And that’s _it_. And don’t even dare to run into me when I’m in my civilian form…” she warned him, before letting herself go, and diving into the void.

            He swore under his breath, before he jumped off the handrail as well, and followed her lead.

            They landed on the ground at the same time, but he was faster than her, and he sprinted towards the end of the Champs-de-Mars, only for his steps to come to a halt at the base of the stairs. He slowly turned her way, spreading his arms wide, as he tried to estimate the time it will take her to get to him, and he was ready to catch her– as she used her yo-yo to soar over the fountain, he started to count the seconds. He was wearing all black and Ladybug didn’t see him at first, in the dark– when she did, however, she was running too fast and couldn’t stop herself at time– she collided into him, making him fall back, and tumbled right atop of him.

            He let out a painful groan, as he reached for the back of his head to rub the hurt away. “S-sorry,” she apologized in a low voice, making no move to get up. She just looked at him with big, worried eyes, and waited for him to open his– as much as she hated him, she still didn’t want him to get _hurt_. When he did, they were big, and green, and they glowed in the night, sucking her in.

            “Don’t worry,” he hissed. “Totally worth it.” Slowly, she felt his clawed hands carefully closing around her waist, bringing her closer to him. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized they were close enough to kiss. “Marinette, I _love_ you,” he whispered against her lips. “And, I don’t care what you say, I know you still love me too.”

            She shook her head. “I-I d-don’t,” she tried to sound serious, and certain, but she was stuttering, and all she could see was his mouth. “Not anymore.”

            “You do. I know you do, don’t lie to me,” he said, as he rearranged a strand of her hair behind her ear. “No one can love someone as intensely as I love you, if they knew it wasn’t reciprocated.” His palm rested at the back of her neck, pulling her down to him, and their faces were so close now, she could almost taste his breath. “I was already in love with you as Ladybug, and then, I fell for you. Doesn’t it count for anything?”

            “I-I don’t care what you t-think, or how you f-feel,” she nervously blurted out. “I just... I want you to leave me a-alone…”

            He smirked, looking at her with creased eyelids. “You and I both know you don’t want that,” he said, before he finally closed the distance between them and kissed her.

            It took her a couple of seconds, before her body took over, and kissed him back. Her gloved hands reached for his cheeks, cupping his face, as she delicately slid into his mouth. He wrapped an arm around her, as his other hand skimmed across her thigh, making her shiver.

            “Marinette…” he spoke against her teeth, slowly pulling away from her to rest his head against the stairs.

            “W-what?” she asked him, instantly missing the contact of his lips. “What is it? You know I love you, too,” she told him, out of breath, as she leaned over him to try and kiss him again.

            He shook his head. “N-no, not this… Y-your phone’s ringing.”

            “ _Huh_?”

            “Open your eyes.”

            She looked at him in confusion. “They’re already open. Cat, what are you talking about?”

            “Marinette, you need to answer your phone. Someone’s calling you. You need to wake up.”

            She frowned at him, still not understanding what he’s trying to get at, before the hand that was on her thigh slid all the way up to her face. He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled violently on one of her strands. “ _Ow_!” she cried out, immediately jerking away from him. “What was that for?!”

            He lifted himself up on his free elbow, still smiling, and suddenly, his voice avidly resembled that of Tikki. “Come on, Marinette, wake up!” he exclaimed, as the bluenette finally woke up, her face pressed against a pile of homework she has been working on, and her kwami tugging on her hair to get a reaction out of her.

            Her phone was vibrating eagerly right in front of her nose and she instantly reached for it to answer the call, still half-asleep, her tongue, heavy in her mouth, and her head was still filled with images of her making out with Cat Noir. “H-hello?” Her lips were dry under her fingertips and red where she had been biting them.

            “ _Marinette? Where are you, honey?_ ”

            Marinette frowned, unable to make out the voice that was speaking to her. “Uh… who’s this?”

            She stretched her legs in front of her, trying to wake them up, and only then realized how exhausted she really was, from all this running over Paris’ rooftops, and her squabbles with Cat Noir, as he repetitively tried to run into her during her patrols.

            She shut her eyes closed for a second, trying to remember if she had indeed kissed him last night after the Press Assembly, but disturbing flashes of her dream still floated in her brain, meddling with real memories of what had happened, and keeping her from distinguishing fantasy from reality. She sought to ask Tikki for help, but then remembered she was still on the phone.

            “ _Marinette, honey, it’s me– Your mom… W-were you sleeping?_ ”

            “Mom? I-” she yawned, looking around, and saw that she was still in her school’s library. “Yeah uh… I was just doing some… homework and uh… I fell asleep. W-what time is it, anyway?” she asked, still confused, as she got to her feet and began to gather up her stuff– she reached for her sketchbook, right under her bio manual– it was opened at the last page, where she had started brainstorming ideas for the gown she was going to wear at the Spring Ball Opening Ceremony.

            “ _It’s almost seven thirty… How are you coming back? You know I don’t like it when you walk home alone, especially when it’s this dark outside. Do you want your father and I to come and get you?_ ”

            “Oh, there’s no need for that, I– I’ll ask whoever is still here to drive me,” she assured her, as she noted some doodles of stars and nonsense and little stickmen with cat ears all around her dress. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, and I won’t be long. Fifteen minutes, tops,” she promised her mom before she hung up.

            “The school’s empty, you know, everyone has already left,” Tikki glared at her, as Marinette finished to pack her things and began to walk out of the library.

            “I know…”

            “Yet, you still told your mom you were going to have someone drive you.” Tikki’s tone sounded accusatory, but Marinette chose to ignore it. “Please tell me you’re not really considering walking home at this hour?”

            “Of course not,” Marinette assured her kwami. “Ladybug, on the other hand… I’m sure she could get us home in under a minute… besides, I don’t think she would have a reason to be afraid of the night,” she reminded her, before she managed to trip over a broken tile and lose balance, walking right into someone who was coming the other way.

            She closed her eyes, letting herself fall on her rear, while Tikki was quick to hide in her bag, and, as she reopened them, she was staring at Adrien, who was rubbing his forehead as he slowly got back on his feet, before he offered her a helping hand. He saw her hesitate, but sighed in relief when she decided to take it, and pulled her right back up. “Hi,” he greeted her shyly, dropping his gaze instantly and shoving his hands down his pockets.

            “Hi,” she replied, hugging her backpack tight against her stomach, refusing to meet his eyes as well, and all she wanted to do was leave, but her legs wouldn’t move.

            “I… I didn’t think there would still be someone in school…” he confessed, blushing a bit.

            “Uh… yeah, neither did I. W-what are you doing here?” She didn’t really care, she thought to herself, but she might as well try and talk, while she waited for her toes to unfreeze.

            “I– uh… forgot my fencing equipment. I have a competition this weekend,” he told her.

            “Oh,” she nodded.

            It has been two weeks, maybe, since Adrien and she had last talked– and she hadn’t really felt the need to change that bit– they barely had one class together, anyway, and in a couple months, it would be summer vacations and after that, they would all be off to university and high school would be nothing but an ancient memory.

            If everything went according to plan, Marinette will be in Berlin, next semester, studying art and fashion business, learning to become a designer, and Cat Noir, if he ever decided to stay in Paris, would have another partner– Tikki and she had already talked about it thoroughly, and they had both made their peace with it. Paris needed a Ladybug, and Marinette wasn’t going to assume this role her entire life, Master Fu had been very clear on that.

            “What about you?”

            Marinette shook her head, as Adrien’s voice snapped her back to the present. “What about me?”

            He smiled softly. “What were you doing here?”

            “Oh, uh… I just… I fell asleep while I was studying,” she said honestly.

            “Has no one tried to wake you up?” he seemed surprised.

            She shrugged. “Well, I guess not.”

            Right. Stupid question– Adrien would’ve probably slapped himself right now, if he was alone. “So… are y-your parents coming to get you?” he wondered instead.

            “Uh… I’m actually walking back home.”

            His eyes narrowed at her. “But– A-are you sure? It’s really dark outside… what if something happens?”

            She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Something like what?”

            He glanced away. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Something bad.” A pause. “D-do you… maybe… w-want to catch a ride with us?” he suggested, and saw her stiffen altogether– he knew, obviously, that nothing bad was ever going to happen to her because, well, she was Ladybug, but– she didn’t know that he knew– not yet, at least– and… he was just dying to spend some time with her, without it ending in another fight.

            “Um… I don’t think…” she began, before he interrupted her.

            “As a way to apologize?”

            His words took her by surprise, as her eyes widened suddenly, and her mouth was moving, but wasn’t saying anything, because her voice was stuck in her throat. “R-really?” she finally managed to choke out.

            Adrien sighed, looked down at his shoes, finding their shape and color very interesting all of a sudden. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that, Marinette. I didn’t mean any of it, if you must know but… I still told all these horrible things and… for that, I am really, deeply sorry.”

            Marinette didn’t say anything for a while, and, for a second, he really thought that she was about to leave him here. “Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” she agreed, nodding, and he heard her gulp audibly, before she added, “but I said some horrible things too, that I shouldn’t have said as well. I didn’t mean them either.”

            Adrien snorted. “I kind of deserved it.”

            “Oh yes, _totally_ – but it still doesn’t make it okay. So I’m sorry, too.”

            He looked up at her, and he was grinning widely, showing teeth, and she couldn’t help but smile back. “Let’s say we’re even, then,” he proposed, handing her his hand to shake.

            She smirked at him. “Yeah, okay. We’re even,” she accepted the handshake.

            As her fingers curled around his palm, and they were staring at each other’s eyes, they found it terribly hard to let go of each other, so they just stayed there, scrutinizing each other and holding hands, while Adrien tried his best to push away every voice that begged him to just grab her face and kiss her.

            “Uh… yeah, um… W-wait for me?” he stuttered, forcing himself back to reality and taking back his hand to rub the back of his neck, looking so sheepish suddenly, Marinette couldn’t help but smile at that. She nodded. “I’m just going to grab my stuff,” he said, snapping his fingers at her, then hating himself profusely for that, before he finally managed to walk away, and make it to the locker rooms in one piece.

 

“So, uh… D-did you follow the diffusion of the Parliamentary Assembly of Ladybug and Cat Noir, yesterday?” Adrien decided to break the silence, as he kept his gaze on the moving landscape behind his window.

            She glanced at him from over her shoulder, then away, looked at her knees, shoving her hands between them, and said, “Not really. I mean… my parents were watching it, so I’ve seen some excerpts.” A pause. “W-what d-did you think of it?”

            Adrien took in a deep breath. “Well, I thought that Ladybug was as great as usual, of course–“ he saw her blush as he pronounced the words and took pride in it, “and… Well, Cat Noir was alright, I guess. But he didn’t speak much. I– uh… wonder why.”

            She shrugged. “I… noticed that bit, as well. He also didn’t talk to her during the whole thing…”

            “Well, to be fair, Ladybug didn’t try to talk to him either,” Adrien defended himself, but tried to speak as softly as possible– she told him to stay away, didn’t she? Was she… changing her mind? He pushed the thought away– he didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now, he needed to focus his attention on Marinette, and concentrate on the fact that they were on good terms again, and that he wasn’t transformed– he was wearing jeans, and sneakers, and this part of him has only ever been friends with her.

            He glanced down at his Miraculous– or… he could just tell her. Be done with secrets and lies forever.

            Marinette shrugged again. “Maybe she just didn’t know how to…” she whispered, looking away, and Adrien almost didn’t hear her.

            He wondered how would she react if he told her that he was still in love with her– Did _she_ still love him?

            “I mean– it probably doesn’t mean, anything, right? Besides, it’s their personal lives– it really doesn’t concern us.”

            “Do you think they’ll ever be okay?” he asked subtly.

            She lifted an eyebrow at him, then smirked, making him blush. “Of course, they will. Eventually… I mean… They’re Ladybug and Cat Noir,” she replied, and she seemed so sure of herself, he couldn’t but believe her. It made him smile even wider.

            “They were probably just nervous,” Adrien decided to go along with her.

            “N-nervous?” she repeated, curious.

            Adrien clicked his tongue. “Even superheroes can be camera shy, you know,” he reminded her.

            “I guess…”

            Adrien decided to change the subject before letting an awkward silence hang between them. “So… the spring ball, right? Have you designed your dress, yet?”

            Marinette nodded. “I have a couple of ideas in mind.”

            As much as Adrien wanted to take a look at her work so far, he knew it would be too uncalled-for to ask her for it this now, so he just told her, “I’m sure it’s gonna be great.”

            She smiled at him, and her eyes were shining in the night, reflecting all the stars that were in the sky. She was so beautiful, and he was so fucked.

            He could just tell her, and be done with all the conundrums and the deceits– He could tell her and make it all simpler for everyone.

            “Oh, I almost forgot…” he said, reaching for something in his bag. “I’ve been willing to give you that since the beginning of the week,” he admitted, as he pulled something that resembled a USB from his pencil case, “but I just… I guess I wasn’t uh… Here,” he handed it to her without finishing his sentence, as the car stopped in front of her parents’ bakery. “I spent all of last week trying to uh… put it together, so… I hope you’ll like it.”

            “What is it?” she asked, as she took the USB from him– She recognized it immediately– It was the one she had given Cat Noir a couple weeks back, with her initials written on it in Tipp-Ex–

            Her eyes snapped right back at him, this time, glistening with tears, and her lips were trembling, her heart, beating in her mouth, and her ears and skin were bleeding, and she couldn’t believe it–

            She wanted to speak, say something, but the voices inside of her head were crying too loud, keeping her from forming coherent thoughts, much less words– She wanted to slap him, kick him, kill him, but her body was in a state of complete utter shock, and she needed time to process the fact that she was in Cat Noir’s car right now, and… if she just leaned in a little bit, she would be close enough to kiss him, and–

            Adrien’s chauffeur honked once to wake her up, and told her to get out of the car, while the former just turned to face her, smiling shyly, quietly apologizing for his bodyguard’s behavior. “Just… will you listen to it? Please?” he asked, as if he didn’t just turn her whole world upside-down.

            She shook her head, still too stunned to talk, as she blindly reached for the door handle and got out on the street, then raced back home, without once turning back to look at him.

            Plagg waited a minute for the Gorilla to restart the car, before he flew out of his owner’s pocket to lie beside him. “Ugh… things were going well… how did you manage to screw it up,” he complained, curling himself next to Adrien’s thigh.

            Adrien was grinning stupidly at nothing, and his kwami just rolled his eyes at him. “I didn’t screw up… She took the USB with her.”

            “She’s probably gonna throw it away,” Plagg countered.

            “Shut up,” Adrien frowned at him. “Just do the world a favor and go to sleep, would you?”

 

***

 

“Come on, Marinette! Hurry up!” Sabine called out from the living room, cupping her hands around her mouth, as she lifted her head towards the ceiling. “We’re waiting!” she giggled, before taking back her place next to her husband, who instantly put an arm around her.

            “I’m coming, I’m coming!” Marinette replied, as she finished perfecting her eyeliner tail, before she ran down the stairs, almost tripping because of her heels, and walked to her parents, and presented them her dress– she had been working at it secretly for almost two weeks, and now, Tom and Sabine could finally see it. “So… what do you think?” she asked them, a little shy, turning around, to show them the back as well.

            It was a long bustier dress with long lace sleeves that she had designed and fashioned all on her own– she used black satin for the corset and black muslin for the skirt, that was slit on one side, showing a simple fluorescent green polyester underskirt. She wore her hair in a nice Dutch braided bun, and her nails and makeup were on point.

            Sabine stood up and reached for her daughter’s hand, her eyes, shining with little tears, as she looked at Marinette, and couldn’t stop smiling. “Sweetie, you are… You look beautiful.”

            Marinette blushed at the compliment. Tom got to his feet as well, but stayed where he was and grinned as his daughter, quietly seconding her mom’s statement. “D-do you think they’ll like it?”

            “Of course, they will, honey!” Sabine exclaimed, making Marinette turn in her arms to take a better look at the dress. “It’s perfect!”

            Marinette chuckled at her mom’s enthusiasm, before her phone started ringing. “Oh, that’s the cab,” she announced. “Well, I have to go,” she said, and her parents simply nodded at her, looking all so proud of their little girl. She paced towards the door, grabbing her coat on the coat hanger and quickly passing it on, before she turned one last time towards Tom and Sabine, gesturing to her outfit. “You’re sure, yeah?”

            “Yes!” they said together. “Now, go! Impress them all!” Sabine added, as Marinette opened the door, laughing slightly.

            “Okay, so… I’m going!” she said– she was nervous, it was obvious with the way she was reluctant to leave, but her parents pushed her towards the elevator– they wouldn’t have minded driving her, but Marinette was sure that if they did, she wouldn’t, ever, be able to find the courage and get out of the car. “Thanks, Mom and Dad. S-see ya!”

            “Have fun, sweetie!” Tom told her, as he pressed on the ground floor button for her and closed the elevator door behind her.

            Marinette let out a deep sigh as she entered the cab, shyly gave the address to the driver, and tried to relax in the back seat.

            “You look really pretty, Marinette,” Tikki assured her, sticking her head out of her owner’s purse.

            The latter smiled. “Thank you, Tikki.”

            “I think Adrien will think so, too,” the kwami teased her, winking at her, making her wince.

            “Why are we still talking about him?”

            Tikki shrugged. “You avoided him all week, but now, you will have to face him.” She paused, glanced at the city that was rolling on the car windows, then asked, “Do you know what you’re going to say to him?”

            Marinette tsked. “Yeah. I’m gonna tell him to fuck off, ‘cause I have a boyfriend.”

            Tikki snorted. “As if,” she mocked her.

            “I’m serious. There’s no way I’m taking him back,” she promised her kwami, folding her arms together.

            Tikki shrugged. “Donna took Sam back, you know.”

            “It’s just a stupid musical,” Marinette shook her head. “Besides, what’s the point?”

            “The point is that the first song on the mix Adrien made you is his piano cover of _The Winner Takes It All_ – but, I’m sure you already know that, since you’ve put the whole playlist on repeat ever since he gave it to you.”

            Marinette glanced away, blushing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

            “He chose some really nice songs, too…”

            “Don’t care. Luka makes me mixes all the time, too,” Marinette bluntly interrupted her.

            “But does he _play_ them?” Tikki giggled. “Also, Luka is the one that said that _Guns N’ Roses_ were just a group of upper middle-class drug addict white trash with zero talent and that just got lucky, _whereas_ Adrien actually made an effort and listened to them, and learned one of their songs, then incorporated to his mix,” she reminded Marinette, her paws on her hips.

            “Luka never said that!”

            Tikki glared at her. “Only each time you showed up with your _Guns N’ Roses_ t-shirt.”

            “Well… whatever. They’re a great band so… His loss.”

            “Marinette…”

            “Oh, look! We’re already here,” Marinette interrupted Tikki, urging her to return into her purse, as she leaned in to thank and pay the driver, before she got out of the car and walked up the stairs, where she was received by the doorman.

            He asked her for her invitation, and she gave it to him almost immediately, before he invited her in, guiding her into the foyer, where another employee took care of her coat.

            The room was huge, and full of well-dressed people, but she saw Adrien almost immediately.

            He was wearing a red three-piece suit and sipping on some champagne, as he talked to someone Marinette recognized as Tom Solace, the C.E.O. of _Edna Fashion House_ , when his gaze found her. She blushed profusely and made her way to the open buffet– an epic battle followed inside Marinette’s brain after that, as she tried to fill up her plate without breaking anything, where one voice was begging her to go and talk to him and the other was ordering her to stay where she was and ignore him all night, if she could.

            “Hey…” his whisper cut through her like a knife through butter, and she almost let go of her plate.

            “H-hey…” she whispered back, looking at him with big blue eyes, taking in all this red– she was wearing her colors, and she was wearing his. The realization hit her like a lightning bolt.

            “You look…” he shook his head, gulped, “ _ravishing_.”

            “Thank you. Y-you uh… too– I _mean_ … You look uh… good enough.”

            “Thanks,” he smiled at her, then glanced at the crowd of people that were dancing in the middle of the room, before turning back to her. “D-do you want to dance?” he asked shyly.

            “Um…” she hesitated.

            “I won’t insist if you refuse,” he assured her.

            “I– O-okay,” she agreed, putting her hand in his and letting him guide her to the dance floor.

            A jazz band was playing, and a woman was singing beautiful lyrics in Italian. Adrien’s hands were on her waist, and his eyes dove into hers, and the music, suddenly, was turning back the clock, allowing her to travel, and return to a previous life, full of laughter, and passion, and love. Marinette embraced the feeling, and in turn, it took control over her body– her mind was in a different world, a world where she lied with Cat Noir on her balcony, and watched the stars, and talked until it was so late, her eyes began to sting.

            Her movements flowed with a dazzling grace, and her soul bounded to the music– her entire being moved with a purposeful clarity, and suddenly, she wasn’t afraid to find herself closer to Adrien, as close as they could be.

            “I… missed you,” he confessed, when they stopped spinning, and the song was over.

            Marinette opened her mouth to say something, but a loud crash sound interrupted her, and they both turned around to see the birth of a new akuma.

            Adrien wasted no time and took her by the hand, walking across the panic of the crowd, and guided her to an empty room where they could transform– it was the first time they did it together, and Marinette took in the sight of Adrien, the boy she had been in love with since as long as she could remember, turning into Cat Noir, her partner, her best friend, the boy that still held her heart inside his gloved hands.

            “Wait!” she caught his arm, as he was readying himself to sprint back to the ballroom, and forced him to turn around to face her.

            “What is it?” he pressed her, a little worried, when she didn’t speak right away.

            She shook her head, her eyes wide open, as she took her face between her hands and lifted herself on her toes to kiss him.

            He kissed her back almost instinctively, wrapping his arms around her, and squeezing her tightly against him. Suddenly, there was no more akuma, no more sounds or light, or anything, there was only Marinette, and Ladybug, and their lips, and their scent all around him.

            “You have no idea how many akumas I had to fight back to keep myself from going rogue because of you,” she said against his teeth, still very reluctant to let go of him, as she prayed whoever was listening that she wasn’t dreaming this time.

            “Shall we go beat the hell outta this one?” he chuckled, lifting her up so that she was standing on his feet, and he could kiss her again, better.

            She giggled. “After you.”

 

The event was ruined and people were already leaving– but Marinette’s dress still impressed lots of designers and fashion houses representatives to whom she handed her card.

            It was chilly outside, but Marinette preferred to stay there, waiting for Luka to come to pick her up– he had called her right after the attack, telling her that he was on his way, giving her no choice, really.

            Adrien’s car pulled up before the edifice’s entrance, and the latter shifted beside her, quietly asking her if she was going to ride with him.

            She didn’t look his way. “L-Luka called me. He’s on his way.”

            Adrien’s face fell.

            “B-but…”

            “He’s my boyfriend, Adrien,” she said, and there was cruelty in her words.

            “R-right…” he sighed. “Is he going to be for long?” he wondered, but she didn’t answer. “Right… Can I– Can I ask you a question, then?” She nodded, but she knew she shouldn’t have, because she knew exactly what he was going to ask her, and she didn’t have any response. “W-why did you kiss me?” She glanced away, looked down, tried hard not to cry.

            A moment of weakness, she wanted to say, but she knew it wasn’t true.

            It was because of the place, and the music. The way he held her, swayed her on the dance floor, the way their eyes met, communicated with each other, the way his touch made her feel things no other boy had ever been able to make her feel.

            “I know you still love me,” he said, and there was something accusatory in his voice. “W-why can’t we just… forget what happened, and move on?” She looked away again, but this time, he reached for her arm and made her face him. “Marinette,” he said, his voice steady, and sure, and his hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I love you to death. Please, give me another chance.”

            She wanted to say something, but her words were lost forever, when the sound of Luka’s motorcycle made it through the silence of the night, and snapped them both to reality. She sighed, rearranged her coat's collar, before she began to go down the stairs.

            Adrien caught on her hand almost immediately, his gaze, pleading. “Don’t go.”

            “I have to,” she whispered, and three words, Adrien felt them like three bullets shot right in his stomach, and he couldn’t move, nor breathe.

            “You don’t owe him anything,” he said.

            “I don’t owe _you_ anything either,” she replied, finishing him, and he would’ve fallen to his knees if he weren’t in public.

            He let go of her hand and watched her as she walked towards Luka.

            A tear escaped his left eye, as he went down the stairs and got into his car, quietly thanking his driver for waiting for him.

            Marinette glanced at Adrien over her shoulder many times, as she made her way to where her boyfriend had parked. He greeted her with a small smile, handing her his spare helmet. She took it, looked at it for a while, before she decided to give it back. “I can’t go with you, Luka,” she told him.

            His eyes widened in surprise. “W-what? Why? How will go home, then?”

            “The same way I came here,” she shrugged, taking a step back. “I’ll call a cab.”

            Luka scoffed. “Marinette, it’s ridiculous. I’m already here.”

            She nodded gravely. “But if I go with you, he’ll never forgive me.”

            “Who’s ‘he?’” he asked, and Marinette discretely gestured to Adrien’s car, which was just starting to move. Luka followed her gaze, recognized it, then turned back to her, slowly getting what the whole truly meant. “So, what? We’re over? Are you breaking up with me?”

            “I’m sorry,” her voice was shaking, and she was crying now, and Luka just couldn’t see her like that– it wouldn’t be fair for him to be angry at her– he always knew she was in love with Adrien, and he always knew that his love for Marinette, although very strong, would never match the depth of the feelings that tied her to Adrien.

            He moved closer to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Hey,” he breathed. “It’s f-fine… uh, I-I mean… I will be fine, as… as long as you’re happy. Please, don’t cry.” She snorted, her smile was weak, but it was still there, hidden behind her sobs. “Each time a pretty girl cries, a fairy, somewhere, dies,” he reminded her of one verse of a song they had written together, a long time ago, and she just chuckled at the memory. “Yeah, that’s better.” He paused. “Are you happy, Marinette?” he asked her sincerely.

            She shook her head. “I’m not. But I’m confident I will soon be.”

            He nodded. “Good enough for me,” he said. “Just… promise me to call if you need anything, okay?”

            She smiled simply. “Of course.”

            “Can I-?” he didn’t finish his question and began to lean in, giving her enough time to pull away, if she wished to, but she didn’t, and he kissed her one last time.

            It wasn’t like any of their other kisses– this one was slow, and sweet, and a little longer than they expected, because they both took the time to remember how the other smelled, how the other tasted and moved.

            “I love you,” he confessed, as he let go of her.

            “I love you, too,” she said it back, although he knew she didn’t mean it in the same he did, as, a couple meters away, the Gorilla finally drove off, leaving Adrien with the bitter image of the love of his life kissing another boy.

 

***

 

“Not now, Plagg,” Adrien grumbled, as he walked into his room, violently closing the door behind him, while his kwami flew away to hide in his personal cupboard, to escape his owner’s salty mood.

            The latter walked to his desk and threw all his books to the floor, before he sank into his chair, and pressed his palms against his eyes. He was crying, it was obvious, but he still tried to hide it, because Agreste men were strong and didn’t cry, and Agreste men never lost composure, at any given time.

            Someone cleared their throat behind him, and he straightened up immediately, turning around, only to see Ladybug beside his open window, looking at him sheepishly, her hands behind her back, and she was biting on her lower lip, her eyes, as red as her costume.

            “Mar–“ he whispered, “what are y-“

            “The window was open,” she answered quickly. “But, I can leave if you…”

            “No!” he exclaimed, cutting her off, as he got up immediately. “No, please,” he said, a little more calm, as he walked to her carefully, then took place on his sofa, urging her to do the same.

            She sat beside him and let go of her transformation– she was even prettier without her mask, Adrien thought to himself, and he had to pinch himself to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. Tikki flew away immediately, looking for Plagg. “Hi,” he said.

            “Hi,” she said back. A pause. “Uh… t-thank for the save, earlier.”

            He grinned at her, his cheeks were still wet, but he wasn’t crying anymore– and neither was she. “You’re welcome.”

            “You should really stop putting yourself in danger like that,” she added, to fill in the awkward silence, and she still wasn’t entirely able to hold his gaze.

            “I’ll try.”

            She scoffed, glanced away. “I know you’re just saying that to shut me up and get to the good part.”

            His smile widened even more, as his hand reached for her face and rearranged a strand of hair behind her ear, before it gently pressed against her skin to cup her cheek. “Is it working?” he asked, slowly leaning in.

            “Adrien, I’m serious,” she nudged him on his arm. “You could’ve been seriously hurt.”

            “But I didn’t, did I?” he teased her, scooting closer to her, and her smell was intoxicating. She was here, she had chosen him– what was he even waiting for? “Come on,” he chuckled, “she barely brushed me, and you know it. I’m not that easily defeated, M’Lady. You being here is proof of that,” he winked at her, making her blush.

            “If we’re really going to do this…”

            He didn’t let her finish. “I’ll be more careful, I purr-omise,” he assured her.

            She sighed, rolling her eyes at the awful pun, before she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. “Good,” she said. “I’m still mad at you, though.”

            “I’m mad at _you_ , too,” he reminded her. “I saw you kiss Luka.”

            “And… so?” she sounded unsure– he hugged her tighter to make the feeling go away.

            “So, we’ll work it out eventually.” He paused, diving into her bluebell eyes, as he sat her onto his lap. “Now, where were we?”

            She giggled. “God, you’re impossible,” she snickered, as she finally closed the distance between them, kissing him, this time, _exactly_ how she had wanted– she had dreamed of kissing him ever since they parted, two weeks ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that's the end of the story! I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it-  
> Thank you again for all your kind, encouraging words, all the kudos and the hits, it really meant a lot and inspired me to keep going!  
> I admit that I had different plans for this fic- I didn't want a happy ending for this story at first, but I guess you could all thank my sister who talked me out of leaving our two favorite idiots miserable and heartbroken :'D  
> You can check out my other MLB fic' [Lady Stardust and Her Sharp Dressed Man,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15429759/chapters/35814252) if you feel like it :)  
> On this note, don't forget to leave your thoughts in the comments!


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